The advetures of the red Camellia
by FallenAngelItachi
Summary: While in Hogwarts for a job with the ministry Hermione found a book full of memories...literally!Is it really written by and for the person it says it was?What's its true purpose?And where does McGonagall come in in all of this?Rating M.
1. The book of memories

**AN**: This is a story about Tom Riddle aka Voldemort and I am really wary of publishing it. I just don't want it to appear as another Tom[completely OOC]xOC story and I really want it to be original...well, one can only hope I assume so it will be entirely up to you dear reader to tell me your opinion about it. My "Beta reader" found it nice even though not her genre (that's my mum actually, poor her) so I believe it is quite an achievement for me and that's what gave me the courage to publish this on the first place! I hope the OC comes off likable...but that's something for another chapter. She doesn't appear just yet; probably in the next chapter as a mention. Anyway! Enough blathering, hope you enjoy this!

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'Oh my God; oh my God, Harry Ron, come quick! You'll never believe what I've found!'

The two men looked at each other as if speaking in telepathy, apparently understanding one another with but a glance as they had the same wondered and surprised look; Hermione's oddly shrill voice wasn't enough reason for that –given her voice would take the same frequency every time she'd found something new and exciting- but the fact she talked to them again certainly qualified. And the reason she "shouldn't" be talking to them was because Hermione had a row with Ron –as usual- and just for this once Harry had _dared_ to take Ron's side.

Swiftly communicating, the two men nodded simultaneously and got their arses off of the Gryffindor's common room couch; the fact Hermione was speaking to them –no matter what her reasons- was an invaluable opportunity and moment that they shouldn't merely pass by. Thus, they followed immediately after her to whatever it was that she was leading them to.

Of course, they didn't fail to notice, not even Ron that was known for his density, that Hermione was exited to the point of being trilled and breath-taken as she was, she was leading them somewhere they knew very well: the room of Requirement. 'It's in here. In here!' she continued literally dragging them from their hands; they looked even more wondered and surprised.

'Blimey 'Mione, we know where the room of Requirement is and what's in it so-'

'Not the room of Requirement Ron, the room of Hidden things-you'll never believe what I've found in there! It's so important that I bet I'll even get promoted because of this! I'm telling you, it's of historical value; come on then!'

She was…ranting. Hermione was ranting. They knew this was bizarre, very bizarre and that what she'd found it could only be really important…and cool thus they didn't say anything else and they allowed her to show them the way. Plus they were still a bit worried if they didn't let her show them she'd stop speaking to them and then all hope for reconciliation they had for within the day, it'd go to waste. Both realizing that _that_ was not an option –Ron wanted to be in good terms with his wife and Harry wanted to go back to her good graces for his own selfish reasons- they went along with it.

'Now out of sheer curiosity and in no way should you consider this as criticism or that I-we do not trust you' Harry corrected after Ron nudged him on the ribcage 'what can it be so amazing that you are so eager to show us?'

Hermione casted him the raised-eyebrow look; she was getting annoyed again, just like she was when they had said her job of care and control of magical creatures was not important enough to come before her family. Ah, thinking about it, that was how this whole argument started. That and them complaining how she has stupid work to do at Hogwarts and given they hadn't been back to the school for a while they should first go see the teachers. But she, being the responsible one, knew she had to do her job first. Swallowing with difficulty both men rushed to correct the situation. 'Not that we don't believe it **_is_** something so awesome and amazing, right Harry?'

'Yeah, we're just wondering what it can be Ron.'

She rolled her eyes seeing the failed yet nonetheless fair try of the two men to get back with her so she let it be and decided that what they'd insinuated was not that horrible as she originally thought it was. Of course, had they seen it before her now they'd be bragging –especially Ron- on how he found one of the most key-pieces of evidence pertinent to the bane of their adolescent and early adult existence: Voldemort.

But since they couldn't know that what she'd found it had any sort of connection with something like that, she forgave them-even though she'd clearly stated it was something that was historical even. 'Well, if you be good boys and follow me then you'll see that what I'm telling you is in no way overreaction: this will be a historical finding; my name will go down in a history book after this!' she was saying with pride and joy while leading them through a pile of things –half of them burnt due to the fire that dimwit Crabbe had started when they were looking for the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw five years ago.

'_I think she's finally lost it._'

'_Ron, that's your wife you're talking about…but I agree_.'

They were whispering between one another, but, after she'd just gone through an entire stack in less than ten seconds, she had come out triumphant, holding something in her hands. But they didn't notice what she was holding until she practically shoved it in front of their faces: it was a book she was so proudly holding that it was twice its original size not because of usage but because there appeared to be something tucked in each of its pages.

* * *

'You found a…book? Really?' Harry said incredulously, looking at her as if she'd grown a second head and Ron was following right in cue.

'It's not just any book-it's **_the_** book…! This is the diary-like book –or journal if you prefer- of the most dangerous and darkest wizard of our time: Lord Voldemort! Or, as Harry enjoys calling him, Tom; Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

'What!?' they both exclaimed as soon as they registered the information.

'But we destroyed that Horcrux Hermione, Harry did on our second year!'

'And it doesn't even _look_ like that one-see? That one was a small black leathered diary but this one looks completely different! And it doesn't even look like a diary really…'

And it didn't; it looked like a medieval book that it was written centuries ago, judging by the shape and the hand-writing on the cover. Yet, as they came closer, they distinguished the book was entitled as:

'"_The adventures of the red Camellia_; written by Thomas Marvolo Riddle, also known as Tommy Gaunt. In memory of Camellia Ravenclaw Adams." What in the world is this Hermione-what kind of diary is this? And are you sure it really was _Voldemort_ who wrote this and not some other guy _pretending _to be him?'

Hermione sighed in resignation; this fool would ever learn. 'No one would ever even _dream _of pretending to be _speaking_ for him, how much more fake and sign a book in his name you stupid.'

'Oh is that so? And couldn't what you've just said be explained by the fact that **it is hidden in the room of hidden things**!?'

'Oh you think you're so smart Ronald; don't you think it is more probable this was written by Voldemort himself and then hidden in here because he wanted _no one_ to find it as it' be considered as a sign of weakness?'

'You're so brilliant Hermione, aren't you? But why would it be considered as a sign of weakness?'

'Well because in case you haven't noticed, this "book" aka diary I found here is entitled as "The adventures of the red Camellia" and not "how I will destroy the world when I'm older"! And Voldemort was definitely _not_ a red camellia; this was written for a woman!'

Oh no; they were bickering again. Well, this once he knew what he had to do: stay out of it. But as they were arguing on who was wrong or right Harry noticed something else: the hand-writing of the title, because the title was hand-written which was odd, was a perfect match with the hand writing he remembered from Tom's "first" diary. T_his just might be authentic! And if it was then…Hermione is right! This is a historical event! It means that Tom Marvolo Riddle actually cared about another human being other than himself enough to write a book about them! Sigh…why would I ever be surprised at thinking Hermione is right?_

'Ron shut up; Hermione must be right.'

'What!?'

'Huh!'

'Wh-what makes you say that?' Ron continued with a tone that spoke of suffering the utmost betrayal by his best friend.

'Hermione, can I browse through this book a little?'

'Um…sure, here.'

She gave it reluctantly, but she did nonetheless; he knew she rarely parted with her findings –even the most unimportant ones- but he also knew that if Harry could prove her right just by browsing through its pages she'd give it right away.

He was turning many pages at a time, not wanting to read the book –yet- but to make sure the hand-writing inside matched Tom's, too; it was not long before he reached his verdict. 'Now I'm sure; this book was really written by Tom Riddle; the whole book is written by hand –just as the title is, too- and it matches Tom's hand writing. I mean, sure you can fake it for the title, even for a couple of pages but not for a whole book!'

'Wh-that's a weak argument! Maybe someone bewitched it to match Voldemort's-'

'You can't do that Ron; you can only "transfer" each letter from the one paper to the other but we all know no one had access to these many documents with Voldemort's hand-writing besides his teachers and his teachers had no reason to do such a thing! This **must** be authentic!' Hermione said absolutely and reclaimed possession of her finding.

But the way she reclaimed it, snatching it proudly out of Harry's hands, she almost made the book "spill" its contents, namely those little weird things Harry saw attached to many pages of the book, making it look twice its original size.

'Oh, hey watch out Hermione! There are some… things that-I-could-not-distinguish-what-they-were pinned on many pages; you'll drop them if you keep handling it like that.'

'Wh-…I'm taking good care of it thank you very much!'

The boys chuckled; they knew that if Hermione Weasly, nee Granger was ever insulted by something then that definitely was people accusing her of mistreating anything with a bind…

'But what are these?' Ron wondered out loud, now and the three of them inspecting these things closely while Hermione was holding the book open to a page.

'They look like…memories!' she said exited; the two men looked at her surprised.

'My; you're right, they do!' Harry agreed; he'd been in the pensive in the headmaster's office (now headmistress) far too many times-how could he not realize it before? Well, it might had something to do with the fact that instead of shiny silver little threads in a bottle they were tightly enclosed in a small transparent black pouch-like cloth, secured by a silver little rope but still. He was an auror for Merlin's sake.

Quickly shaking that thought out of his head, he concentrated on the matter at hand: there were memories attached to many pages of the book and most probably they were Tom's memories! He would have access to memories from Tom's point of view; not like the ones he witnessed when he was sucked in by his diary on his second year, but actually see a piece of his mind. After all, no matter how racist Voldemort was being about mud-bloods and no matter how evil he was, it would be very interesting for a wizard like him –and especially to _Harry_, given his past with Voldemort- to see how Voldemort thought and processed things. Maybe it would even help distinguish future "bad eggs" and have them under control.

Of course, the fact these were memories seemed not less appealing to the others to as well; Hermione who always wanted to know more either about knowledge in general or very important people, she couldn't hide her excitement. After all, Voldemort was a very important fellow.

Ron, on the other hand, was plainly curious; was there actually a human being that got to move Voldemort and maybe even managed to make him fall in love with her? Suddenly Ron's mind was flooded by a very cheesy romantic moment where both Voldemort –in his early years- and the woman that the book was about, shared vows of eternal yet doomed love in the still of the night. Then, they proceeded in making love and in the end Voldemort sacrificed her-a sacrifice she was willing to make. He shivered at his own sudden inventiveness and the morbid feeling this thought left. Of course Ron had even made up an image for the woman: not very tall not short, long black straight hair a little above her waist and deep blue eyes; in short a kinder softer version of Bellatrix Lestrange.

He shivered again in the memory of that sadistic woman and the horrors that had happened to his wife at Malfoy manor; for the first time that afternoon he looked at Hermione so affectionately.

'So we are safe to say this is a book about a girl called Camellia Ravenclaw Adams who most probably attended Hogwarts with him; but was she a pure-blood or a half-blood? I mean, there's no way she'd be a muggle-born.' Harry said thoughtfully; the two agreed.

'She must have been a pure-blood; look at the name: Camellia **_Ravenclaw_** Adams.'

'Ron, Ravenclaw is the middle name which can mean a number of things such as her parents having attended both the Ravenclaw dormitory and meeting and falling in love there **_or_** merely being obsessed over Rowena Ravenclaw… or she was just lucky to be someone with a similar name.' Hermione opposed indignant; sometimes her husband could get really thick.

'But I still believe she was a pure-blood; I doubt he'd ever be attracted to anyone with "tainted blood" or even "half tainted blood".'

'I agree with Ron on this one Hermione; and you got to admit, not many people are named after Hogwarts's founders' names without having some sort of connection with them.'

'Well this book is about her, boys and I'm sure her blood status or anything like that will be mentioned on the first page; so why don't we all read it-?'

'Are you mad-read all of that?' Ron protested immediately; Harry might have thought he was being a bit overactive but then he noticed…the size of the book was _huge_ and the handwriting was small and the pages not that thick; that only meant that its pages were many and it would most probably take him a month to read…so yeah, no way he'd read that thing **or** say something against Ron.

'Yeah, why get into the trouble? We can just see the memories; it appears as if they are pinned to the important events anyway.'

Even though she a)rolled her eyes, b)sighed indignant and "desperate" due to the "hopelessness" of their cases and even c)gave them the "come on" look, their expression didn't change. They kept giving her the "I'm not going to read that and you'll just have to summarize it for me" look that they hadn't used since sixth year. She sighed in resign. 'You're always the same; always the same! You don't read the whole book just the summary or the high-lighted events! But this is not exams you know-this is…life-literature! You have to know the _whole_ story because if you **don't** then you don't get to know the characters' character! And if you don't know **that** then when you get to the really important plot point you'll have **no** idea why the characters are acting the way they are and you'll have no use or reason to read on anyway! Take us for example: what would someone think of Harry if he learned he killed Voldemort but he had no idea of who these people were? Wouldn't he think Harry is the evil one? Or, why would someone think Harry was special for killing Voldemort if he didn't know about the prophecy or the fact he didn't die of the killing curse?'

'Don't be ridiculous Hermione everyone knows about these things-'

'Yes Ron, they do, but what if they didn't? What if –say I had an aunt who lived in America and she suddenly came back! If I told her this is "Harry Potter who killed the evil Voldemort" she'd just say "Oh, well; good job" not "Oh my God how amazing, it's Harry Potter!" and say-'

'OK, we got the point already stop…' Harry snapped worn out; they knew Hermione was convincing so no need to drive them crazy over this…

'Well, you might have gotten the point but I don't think you'll read the book after all; guh!'

'You know Hermione, you are right!' Ron announced all of the sudden; both people present looked at him wide eyed. Was he for real? Or was he that desperate to get back on the good graces of his wife? 'I mean-if we see one of the memories in which she just sacrifices herself for him but we don't know what led her to it then we'll just think she'd as deranged as Bellatrix right? So this is what we're gonna do: you'll read _all_ of it' he drawled 'and then tell us of their characters as depicted in the book and narrate all the important facts! What about that?'

OK, Harry was relieved; Ron was back to normal. But the simplicity of his tone made Harry break into a small fit of laughter while Hermione pouted and rolled her eyes. Sometimes her husband could be both smart yet incredibly stupid that it just drove her nuts. But she knew that they'd end up doing that anyway so she agreed in order to avoid a longer argument. 'I guess you're right; fine. I'll read it and when I finish it-two days tops don't be too relaxed- I'll tell you everything and then we'll see the memories. I wonder if we can see them in one sitting.'

'Won't that take days?' Harry asked incredulously.

'…I said I wonder…'

'What _I_ wonder is how McGonagall will react; when we tell her I mean…' harry continued and chuckled; Ron followed his example amused.

'Oh, I bet she'll congratulate all of us but make sure Hermione gets most of the credit for it!'

'But you didn't find it-I did! All you did was…argue about it. Especially you Ron.'

'Thank you so much love.' he snapped sarcastic.

'You're welcome honey.' She was completely literal.

'Well, if you've finished being a jerk to one another why don't we go find McGonagall? Dunno who'll she give the most credit to but I bet she will be thrilled to see this; did you know she was a year older than tom? He was December of '26 but McGonagall is '25. Ha-ha, this will bring back some of her own memories-maybe we get to have a glimpse of her past in the pensive.'

'Ooh, see McGonagall young as a student? You know, for some odd reason I believe she will be a miniature Hermione!'

'**_Odd_** reason Ron? Had one not known they are student and teacher they'd call them grandmother and granddaughter for certain!'

'Very funny guys, very funny; now shall we actually go tell her or will you stand here talking about it?'

**_

* * *

_**

Headmistress's McGonagall office…

'Alright, let me see if I understood correctly: you were browsing through the room of Hidden things for potentially dangerous objects and creatures that might had found shelter there and you accidentally found a book written by the dark lord in his youth about a pure-blooded **_witch_**, am I right?' she summarized, an unreadable expression on her face.

'Yes!' the three of them chorused excitedly; the headmistress raised an eyebrow skeptical.

'And you are perfectly sure this was not someone else's who happened to have the same name or someone's who signed with his name?'

'Yes!' the three of them kept on with the same ear-to-ear smile.

'How?'

'With my help, we concluded that this is Tom Riddle's handwriting and that no one could copy all of it for so long-'

'-but while coming here Hermione remembered there **are** ways to do that after all so she casted a couple of authenticity spells on it-'

'-but found nothing. This is indeed handwritten by lord Voldemort himself and it also contains numerous memories attached to many pages of the book.'

As soon as McGonagall heard that Hermione had checked it with spells that verified authenticity she looked up surprised; if she really did and they all showed it wasn't a fake then this really was a book written by Voldemort containing his memories inside it. She was so amazed yet awed she could only help herself not to gape at them. 'Alright…let me see the book please.'

Hermione handed it –this once a little to willingly as she knew she was giving it to good hands-; the guys swore that Hermione must have been McGonagall's long lost granddaughter because the headmistress had an expression **identical** to Hermione's when she'd first showed it to them.

When she read the title, she did gape though. '"The adventures of the red Camellia?"!' she exclaimed out loud; it was one of those rare times they got to see Minerva McGonagall, the most reserved and formal teacher they ever had, lose control of her perfect image even for a little. 'Why-what-when was this written, does it say-did you look for a date in this?' she stormed; she looked completely wrapped up in the book –_most probably in the past_, they mused- as her voice was unnaturally high-pitched. They were convinced that had she not been holding the book she'd be shaking them violently by their collars looking for an explanation.

'Um…why are you being so worked up over this ma'am; it _is_ just a book.' Ron asked timidly yet doubtful of her mental state, possibly expressing Harry's skepticism as well; was this book rumored to exist and as she read the title she realized what it was? Nah, she'd be like this from the first moment she'd heard about the book. Then why now, what was it? Well, she did lose it as soon as she read the title; was this pertinent to the girl the book was about?

_Don't tell me McGonagall knew this red Camellia…_ and the three of them thought and like reading each other's mind when they looked at one another, they nodded in between themselves.

'This may be "just a book" as you called it mister Weasly but this is about Camellia; Camellia Adams! Ah, of course; it says so right here! Oh my god, I don't believe this…'

With this sentence, the three were verified; McGonagall indeed knew this girl and she seemed to have met her so -for Ron's and Harry's benefit- they wouldn't have to read the whole book to find out about her! Of course Hermione's thought was that now she could get more opinions about her and not just Tom's; after all, judging one person through only one's eyes, can be quite small-minded. And Hermione Weasly nee Granger was known for her criticism on one-sided views. 'Headmistress, did you know this Camellia Adams?' Hermione asked wittingly; McGonagall looked at her as if she'd just asked the most ridiculous thing in the world.

'Of course I did; she was a student here at Hogwarts in the same year as Voldemort; I was but a year older than both of them you see, so I can remember. But why did you refer to her as "pure-blood"?' she asked in the end confused; just as confused the trio looked at her.

'What do you mean?' Harry asked suspicious.

'She was _not_ a pure-blood?' Ron asked shocked.

'Heavens no!'

'But her middle name is Ravenclaw; consequently no matter what, one can't have such a name if not a pure or a half-blood so that means-'

Suddenly McGonagall started laughing; she was laughing a little, just to be heard -in the beginning- but as the time went by the laughing got stronger and stronger, until she had tears in her eyes and she could no longer sit straight. The young ones proceeded to look at her and then at each other wondered –and a bit scared, in all honesty- and watched as she regained her composure, sitting up in her chair. It truly was an otherworldly sight to see the certain woman act like that, but they also felt kind of stupid because if the reason was so simple McGonagall actually laughed then they were very dimwitted indeed. 'S-sorry children, I'm very sorry;' she sobered up and coughed 'you see, back then, we used to call each other by our houses' names and use them as a middle name. For instance I was Minerva **Gryffindor** McGonagall, she was Camellia **Ravenclaw** Adams. It was for practical reasons only, I assure you; we were not that full of ourselves.'

'Oh…' Ron said but clearly he had something to add; but he didn't. Yet, Hermione who was unable to hide her curiosity asked it immediately:

'Then what was she?'

Minerva could almost feel the tension of her former students building up inside of them, pounding on their stomachs. She meant to torture them just for a little while but she just couldn't bring herself to do it; once she had someone as a student she'd always see them like that thus she'd be willing to teach them anything. She smirked knowingly and said slowly: 'She was a very bright and capable whimsical… muggle-born girl.'

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And that was the first chapter! Loved it? Hated it? Liked it but think it needs improvement? Please let me know! How? Press the **REVIEW** button! _...Seriously, please do; I have the review chaser or something..._


	2. A talk or two of the past

**A/N**: Ha-ha, second chapter is even bigger than the first one; fear my evil powers of long chapters! Well, I make them big because me, as a reader, I am more satisfied with long ones rather than short -1500 words or less. So now you know... Anyway, even though there was not much feedabck (the curse is still after me apparently) it was good, even if little. So here I am publishing chapter two; hope you enjoy! Oh! It begins exactly where it stopped; McGonagall's office with the three questioning her about this woman.

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'She was a very bright and capable whimsical… muggle-born girl.'

'Did you just say…?' Hermione started.

'Muggle-born?' the three asked in unison. They either didn't hear well or they were really high on something because they had just heard that the book lord Voldemort wrote, the most extreme supremacist in the world that was known for his cold-heartedness, was about a woman that was muggle-born, with "tainted blood" as he called it. Could that be possible? The most frigid racist person -maybe on the whole planet- wrote a book about a _girl_ who was what he'd discriminate against? That didn't sound right; he nullified the two aspects of his personality that he tried to highlight in all of his life all in one book. Wrong; in the title of one book-who knows what the book would actually say?

Like reading their minds –not that it was hard to since they were standing there with their mouths hanging open- but not **actually** doing it (McGonagall hated people who would invade another human being's privacy in such a manner) she smiled and repeated: 'Yes, she is a muggle-born. Correction, she _was_ a muggle-born; I'm guessing she died.'

'Guessing, ma'am?' Hermione noticed; no one could ever underestimate this girl's intelligence. That brought a smile in McGonagall's face and made the boys feel very proud of their friend (in Ron's case, his better half, too).

'Yes. You see one day she just disappeared from the face of the earth and no one knew what might have happened to her; no one on our side that is. And Voldemort's followers wouldn't say a word about her _as if they were instructed_ if you catch my drift boys and girl…naturally we assumed that Voldemort or one of his death eaters had done something to her-preferably killed her- but we never had any real evidence on what was her fate. For a peculiar reason we found no trace of her or of dark magic being carried off in her apartment and we couldn't even find a dead body. This was a very odd case that many skillful Aurors had investigated –Alastor Moody included- but none of them could find anything…not even Dumbledore did; he was certain though she could not have been alive.'

'Why-and how could she have just disappeared? Didn't her parents look for her or stayed in touch-didn't they find it odd that their child went missing or her friends and family in general?' Harry asked; his auror blood was surfacing (and boiling) again and he started asking all the right questions. Oh wait; these answers would be answered as soon as Hermione read that book, no big deal. Thinking about it by finding this they would solve a cold mystery-case from his department…cool.

'No one could vouch for her; I told you she was very **very** whimsical and at times people couldn't contact her for weeks-she'd just disappear like that! Of course her parents always did, but they died a year after she finished Hogwarts; she went missing hardly seven years after she graduated herself. Ah…wasted, really wasted that girl got. Hanging out with Tom-whatever was she thinking? I always worried how she'd end up and as soon as she went missing I just knew; yes, I was informed she went missing from Dumbledore who kept tabs on her.'

'And what did Dumbledore tell you about her?'

'She was a typical laid-back witty student and later a laid-back witty ministry employee; he never said much more to me.'

'Alright, she was very indecisive doing one thing or another but-'

'I never said indecisive I said whimsical mister Weasly. Care to know the difference?'

As soon as McGonagall said these words, as if in tune, Hermione spoke immediately: 'The word "whimsical" is used to describe a person who acts in an erratic manner or with a degree of unpredictably, a person who is rather capricious; "indecisive" is used to describe a person who exhibits irresoluteness.'

'Wonderfully misses Gran-err, Weasly.'

Suddenly everyone felt like they were back in school again: Hermione was acting like a know-it-all, correcting a mistake Ron had made, with the usual chuckle or indifference form Harry; this once, it was the case of chuckling. '_And she didn't even have to raise her hand…_' he whispered to his best friend.

Ron was not amused at all though, as he rolled his eyes irritably, and glared at his wife. 'OK, fine; can I make my point now?' he waited a little for dramatic effect and when no one said or did anything to interrupt him, he continued. 'As I was saying, no matter how capricious she was, she must have had a reason to disappear like that; she didn't just wake up one morning and said: "I think I'll go missing now." unless of course she was also irrational other than spontaneous.'

'No, you do have a point mister Weasly; you see she had just filed a request for god knows what –she was working at the department of Mysteries- and everyone knew when she was nervous or excited about something she'd do that. She'd call it a change of pace, of setting, of a point of view and it helped her with whatever it was she was dealing. So when she went missing, it had been when they informed her that due to various circumstances her request would take longer to be considered. Since standard time was a couple of weeks at most, this meant that now it would take up to four weeks…but when she didn't return even after four weeks that's when people started looking for her. Regrettably, no one ever found her…even to this day.' She was a bit grim while saying these-she wasn't even looking at the three of them. They could almost see the fine line of past and present, memory and now slowly and steadily being transcended; at that particular moment they wondered just how much had this person seen in her life. Yet when she looked at the three of them again, she lightened up. 'Still something tells me that the mystery behind her disappearance is about to be solved; all we have to do is read the book.'

'Yeah, something says that to me, too.' Harry agreed in a very condescending tone; he didn't know what else to say. But then it strokes him! 'Hang on; she was an _Unspeakable_ at such young age!?' McGonagall nodded amused. 'Wow! She must have been _**good**_!'

'Indeed…'

'_Or plainly weird…_' Ron commented silently enough but he was still heard; proof of that were the dirty looks he received from the two women present.

'What was she working on?' Hermione asked interested -yet still eyeing Ron; she just had to know all she could about this woman the fastest she could. She knew the book most probably mentioned all of these but she couldn't help herself. Plus, it might have had something to do with her disappearance, too.

'…who knows? Even after her disappearance the department didn't allow us to look into it. Anyway; I'm afraid that is all I know about her so if you want more information out of me I suggest you let me read the book.'

'We most certainly will but-honestly now professor; she was but a year younger than you so you must have known her more than that. Besides, if she was brilliant enough to attract Tom's attention then I'm sure she as quite unique.' Harry said imploringly; he didn't expect McGonagall to ask for the book so now that she did it only meant that they would get to know about this Camellia at least a week later. So she should at least tell them something more about her…

'Well, I suppose you are right but you must understand this: she was a _Ravenclaw_ and I was a _Gryffindor_ and she was also younger. We certainly respected one another but we were not exactly best friends. We weren't friends at all for that matter; merely friendly acquaintances. So naturally, we didn't pay much attention to one another. I had only marked her as my successor as Head girl because she was very bright and capable even if I disagreed with her way of doing things.'

'What do you mean, what d'she do?' Harry asked suspicious again. Damn those auror genes!

'Was she…_evil_ like Voldemort?' Ron asked squinty-eyed; Hermione looked from one to another thoroughly.

'Ah, by all means, no children; I meant, ha-ha, how pointless does it sound now…I meant she was not as a diligent student as I was-or Voldemort for that matter- and that she didn't pay attention to all of the classes. She was lazy and got the marks she wanted only to the classes she wanted; the rest she wouldn't even try. And yes, I was also keeping tabs on her; but tabs concerning exclusively her grades since I had access as Head girl. I mean, I was not taking advantage of my authority of course, I was merely trying to learn all I could about the one I had marked as my successor.'

'Oh; did she become Head girl after all?' Hermione asked.

'No; headmaster Dippet said there were girls with better grades and more exemplary behavior than hers that should be taken into account and no doubt, there were. If memory serves I believe a hard-working and earnest girl from Hufflepuff named Lucinda Irons was appointed Head girl that year. Although, I must admit I always suspected that the reason she didn't make it to the position was not that professor Dippet minded her lack of setting an example rather he feared of what would happen if she and Voldemort were left alone in the same dormitory...' she paused to see their reactions; they had all leaned closer out of sheer interest, looking captivated.

'Why? Did they fight a lot?' Ron asked innocently; but Harry was not that innocent.

'…I just got this image in my head of Tom and Camellia being something like what you and Hermione where… and I must admit I feel nauseous.'

'Ewe, Harry! Please don't rank us in the same category as **him**!' Hermione shrieked and Ron was nodding like hell; the young couple felt chills running down every piece of skin they had but managed to stop when McGonagall spoke again.

'No, Mister Potter; nothing of the sort I'm afraid. You see those two were an explosive mix. They were fighting…' she searched for the right word 'quite underhandedly I might say; they would always argue resulting in "constructive criticism" of each one's beliefs and they would never raise their voices, but one could even come to feel awe or a bit of fear when around them during a fight. People used to say it was because they were always fighting somewhere alone, too so they took it out on one another then, away from the crowds. People would also say that they acted quite _possessively, _if you understand; especially Voldemort. And _that_ they would contribute it of course to the general belief amongst the students that they were secretly dating. **No** mister Weasly, I never believed that…' she snapped before he could say a word 'but I also didn't believe that they didn't have **some** sort of connection; they acted way too comfortable around one another even if they were from different dormitories that it was suspicious.' she reassured Hermione who was about to protest. 'Also, they were seen doing _homework_ together which you all know I presume how odd it is for two people of different houses.' Apparently they did because they all widened their eyes. 'It was weird; I had sat with them in but one time completely coincidentally yet all I could do was watching them argue in class. She was openly negative and maybe a little hostile to him while he was being coy and derogatory; still they could be seen together a lot. It was almost as if both of them were masochistically enjoying being in the displeasure of each other's company. I was always wary of Voldemort and didn't like her being close to him in such a way –I didn't like _any_ girl being close to him… but she was different; she was too close. But that is all I know. I don't know what they were saying or why they kept being on each other's cases when they obviously didn't get on well with one another. Even Voldemort's friends didn't like her and found it weird; they even claimed that Voldemort didn't like her, too…'

Now that was definitely odd; why would someone be around somebody else if they couldn't stand him? Thinking about it that was one of the odd things but let's just call this the oddest.

'Well, actually, these are quite a lot; thank you so much for your information.' Harry said in his formal way as if he had just finished interviewing a witness or a suspect; he mentally slapped himself. _Really now, saying that to McGonagall? I can be such an arse…_

'Yes, they will be useful! So when can we come back for the book? I assume you'll be keeping it until you read it.'

'Yes misses Weasly I would like to keep it; once I read it and prove beyond doubt its authenticity I'll give it back to you. It'll take me about two days so please, stay here until then.'

'Yes ma'am!' the three of them said excitedly and nodded.

* * *

They left the office with much more information that what they came in with but sadly they were one book sort. Well, no big deal; they'd be getting it back in a couple of days and then –two days after **that**- they would know everything.

'Oh no!' Ron exclaimed as they made their way at the great hall; taken aback, both of his companions stopped short and turned to look at him.

'What-what is it?' Harry asked alerted, looking around trying to find what it was that Ron had and he hadn't noticed.

'We forgot to ask McGonagall something very important…'

'What?' Hermione asked –almost offended.

'How did this Camellia look like?'

Just as both of them were about to cast Ron –who said that with more drama than he should- a very nasty and indignant look they stopped; they reconsidered. It was true that they too were itching to find out how that girl looked like. They all pouted.

'At least we know a lot more about her now; let's start with the basics: she was a muggle-born student born in 1926 called Camellia Adams in Ravenclaw dormitory.' Harry started trying to cheer Ron (and himself) up. How could he forget to ask such a thing anyway?

'Friend of Voldemort.' Ron added.

'Didn't Dumbledore say he had no friends?' Hermione reminded them; _she always has to do that, doesn't she?_ Ron thought a bit annoyed at this realization.

'And what do you want us to call her, alleged friend or possible lover? All the information we have on her say they were friends and rivals so let's keep it like that.'

_Wow, that actually makes sense!_ And **that** thought both Harry and Hermione, equally surprised, as they heard Ron speaking. 'Alright, you're right; so, friend of Voldemort and an intelligent person…somehow that sounds like an oxymoron: no one can be both intelligent and Voldemort's friend, they just can't!'

'OK, relax Harry; she was also whimsical and lazy yet sharp.'

'Enough with the characterization already; the important thing is she got along with Voldemort…! Or at least she was seen with him on several occasions as one wouldn't call arguing all the time "getting along".' Ron contributed.

'Yes, but they also studied together and everyone was under the impression they were secretly dating and spending time with one another!'

'Yet we all know how wrong rumors are Hermione.' Harry snapped obviously referring to the fact he himself had been a subject of rumors far too many times to know they were 99% of the time wrong.

'Professor said that that was the general belief, not a rumor; and where there's smoke there's also a fire. I bet they did spend a lot of time together; maybe someone saw them and made a big deal out of it.' Hermione hastened to explain; they had to know better than not to take her so lightly-especially Harry. Of course she knew rumors were false most of the times but even McGonagall admitted she believed they had some sort of twisted relationship. Oh right; she should point that out. 'And don't forget McGonagall also believed they were involved somehow-I never said they necessarily dated.'

'I suppose you're right…hey, d'you reck' Voldemort fancied that girl?' Ron asked appearing to be in deep thought; the other two seemed questioned.

'Fancied? Define the term.'

_So typical Hermione-ish reaction, _both men thought.

'Well, you know-wanted, lusted, loved.'

'Now wait just a minute; wanted and lusted or loved? They are quite different.' Hermione pointed out.

'All of them.' he replied shrugging.

'I believe he wasn't in love with her; maybe he craved her-the forbidden fruit and all or maybe he didn't know what love was so he was confused himself. If he wrote a book about her then at least she was special to him in many ways…'

'Um…let's use the very word he'd used for Snape and his feelings for my mum; let's say "he desired".'

'Yeah, that does stand to reason; you think that's why he would be "possessive" like McGonagall said and even if they always fought he kept being around her?' Ron wondered almost shocked –not because of the logic of the thing but at the thought Voldemort could feel that way.

'I think the girl reciprocated his feelings to a very large extent; or else how did this game of tag of theirs go on?'

'Good thinking Hermione; but no wonder; you are a girl yourself. **You** should know about these stuff.'

'…and I still believe you have the emotional range of a teaspoon Ron.'

'Hey! I'm married to you, aren't I? That should count for something!'

'Let's just all be silent about this until I get the book back; I am going to write to the ministry to let them know we'll be staying here. But shouldn't you two be going? Your job is much different from mine and it is by nature outdoorsy so it must be restricting for you being in here.'

'Restricting-are you mad Hermione? We hadn't been in here for at least four years-we are glad to be back again!'

'Yeah; this brings back so much memories…and I'm very fond of most of them; even when I got to fight Voldemort and witnessed almost everyone I knew being killed.'

Yes; Harry Potter still hadn't gotten over the deaths of Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Fred Weasly. All of them held the same significance to him but he felt a bit more attached to Lupin; also, the fact he was Teddy's godfather was making things both better and worse-depending on the mood.

Actually none of them had gotten over the fact these people died… and especially Ron who could still be caught crying over the fact his brother died when he thought he was all alone. But Hermione could hear him; when Ron was hiding his tears behind his perfectly idiotic smile or when he'd turn around when she'd walk into a room Hermione couldn't be fooled. And Hermione also couldn't blame him as she too would cry if she thought about it too much.

But of course none of the three could be compared to what the twin left behind, George, would feel or be like; he was always acting like himself making jokes and smile but they all knew that when he didn't and he was in the safety of his house he was lost in his grief. Thank god Angelina was there to comfort and support him through it and now he was much better than he originally was.

Of course his mother didn't take it well herself, but she had her husband who was equally sad yet equally optimistic as her; they had one another to lean on to and they had six more children to be happy and take care of. Ok, maybe they weren't taking care of them anymore now that they had grown, - it was more like the other way round- but it didn't matter. They had them and each other and that was enough. Plus all the children and wives (for Ginny a husband) their children had made it somewhat easier.

Those being said and the three of them felt happy to be back in their school; the school in which they bonded, they shared many of the experiences that brought them together and so close and generally where they had met. The melancholic smile playing on their lips was proof enough and as soon as they looked at one another they knew; they burst out laughing.

_**

* * *

**_

Meanwhile, in McGonagall's office…

'That was definitely unexpected.' a deep and familiar voice said with its usual vigorous tone. Only this once there was a tingle of excitement and maybe humor; humor of the irony of the thing.

She had just finished writing all the right letters to those that should be informed of what the three ex-students had found in the room of Hidden things; she had been hyperactive ever since she learnt of the existence of the book –well, ever since she'd read the title if she wanted to be completely honest with herself- and now it was about time to do what she had wanted to do as soon as she laid eyes upon it…read it. And read all of it right away. Oh if she could only barricade herself in her office and do nothing else until she was finished! But she couldn't because she was the headmistress and she had other things to do, too sadly… _This is truly odd; what in Merlin's name is wrong with me? I would never think that being a headmistress is a bother…oh my, am I slowly slipping into my teenage-hood again? That would explain my sudden enthusiasm…besides I always wanted to know what really happened to this girl and the fact Dumbledore wouldn't tell me much it drove me crazy! Alright then; Camellia Adams, let's see what your story was…and why in earth you would be naïve enough to mess with Voldemort even though everyone told you to stay away…_

'Minerva, are you still with me?' the same voice asked again, this once a bit concerned yet still amused; it came from behind the chair of the headmistress and it came from the wall.

'Oh my; so sorry Albus, I was merely thinking to myself. But…you did hear them, didn't you?'

'Ah, that I definitely did; so does this mean that our dark lord was not that dark after all? Or maybe he always lied about not finding love?'

At the mere uttering of the certain sentence from Albus Dumbledore's painting on the wall, Minerva looked shocked. 'Relax my dear, it was a mere joke;' Minerva seemed to calm down to that. 'I do not deny the sweet misses Adams was probably in love with him but I highly doubt that were his sentiments, too. Maybe he merely thought he could communicate with her…or maybe he really felt strongly about that peculiar creature, one can't know until they've read the book.'

'Peculiar?'

'Oh come now Minerva, I can remember her quite clearly-yes, I have added every single one of my memories in this painting… for your misfortune and everyone else's who will follow. I will all have had them as students, which means I can easily embarrass them and never make them forget they themselves were but children once.' He paused a little for dramatic effect –and to make Minerva understand what it was that he was saying and when she did (a look of indignation and an eye-rolling from her) he continued, his smile never faltering. One can actually say with certainty it was bigger. 'As I was saying, I can remember that little girl still. So eventful, so restless…yet somehow so eternally bored. I could never quite fathom how she could do that and even when I tried it, I just couldn't do it. Yet she was always just that-I had even caught her with her feet on the table during classes a few times.' Minerva looked so scandalized at that little piece of information Dumbledore couldn't resist an earnestly wicked smile. 'It wasn't Armando who didn't want her to be Head girl, just for your information dear, it was me. I had influenced him enough to believe exactly what he'd said later; I was that opposed to the idea that Armando had started wondering if I had actually disliked a student, if I disapproved of her even though I approved of Tom. Ah, such an impressionable man he was, it was amusing to steer him wherever you wanted to. Anyway, back to the subject again. Ah yes; why. Isn't that what you're currently wondering Minerva?' guilty she had been caught her memories of being a student and him catching her speaking in class came flooding back. 'Well, I thought that much would be obvious but I guess it isn't just the obvious-alright, let me explain my incomprehensible ranting. You see I was worried for that girl, a smart and capable Ravenclaw pure and kind-hearted as she was, around Tom. I dreaded the thought of how he could corrupt her in more ways than one…so I was strictly against her appointment as head girl. When I kept repeating and repeating my notions to dear old Armando he fell for it; I preached on and on about morality and even though both of these brilliant students would have limits, I also emphasized on their hot burning youth and the mistakes that could drive to. Consequently I feared they weren't a good mix when propriety was concerned me myself –especially for that matter since I was sure something would happen and in all fairness even if I weren't puritan I was still a teacher.'

'You mean they were dating!?'she asked surprised. But she was more annoyed that she hadn't figured it out all these years than anything else as held on to the ridiculously "romantic" notion that Voldemort had always kept himself away from affiliations with women.

'No, they weren't dating…not in the context you're putting it in anyway but they were somewhat together-connected. I had seen them whispering about and being too close to one another –definitely bursting each other's bubble- more than a few times. But nothing indicated they were "dating" or went any further that a friendly hug… while in Hogwarts.'

'Oh? You mean out of Hogwarts there might have been?'

'Why yes Minerva, don't look so shocked. Honestly, your eyes are so wide one would think you're going for some sort of record.'

'Ahem.'

When he made that little comment on how she looked with abnormally widened eyes she immediately turned a bit scarlet but still coughed. She was the headmistress after all and she was no longer seventeen years old. But she recovered it quickly as her curiosity seemed to take the better of her again. 'And how do you know that? I mean, do you have any proof, did you see something for yourself?'

'My, my, dear Minerva; what does it matter what I thought anymore? We have Tom's manuscript talking about it, I'm sure he'll have that mentioned somewhere; after all she didn't go missing after but five short years since she had left school…exactly when Tom took a turn for the worse. Ah, enough unfounded talk of the past; read on my dear, read on!'

She settled in her chair, asked from a house elf to bring her a cup of her favorite tea just as she wanted it and as soon as her request was met she waited no longer. She opened the book on the first page; no context table, no introductory note, nothing. She only read in big fancy letters:

Chapter one: Life before Hogwarts.

* * *

And this is the end of chapter two! Am I keeping you on edge? I really really hope so! Review to let me know what you think; is it taking a turn for the best, for the worse, is it the same? Please let me know! By the way -and just because I'm that evil- no matter what McGonagall or our all-time classic headmaster Dumbledore said, they didn't give any serious spoilers about their relationship; just what an average person would think of.


	3. Life before Hogwarts

**A/N**: Hey there stranger! This is the third chapter, coming later than the second did -in comparison anyway- and it is smaller...but hey! I have the fourth chapter coming almost immediately and that is longer than the second! Well, I'm saying these because I really hope you actually care ^^"

Now I know this must be a rather slow chapter but please give it a shot; you'll getto have a little peek at Camellia's life by the "hand" of Voldemort...or how I think he would write anyway! So read on and tell me what you think; I share the shame anxiety with a fellow author about not making Tom out of character. Oh! Next chapter is the first memory and the first appearence of the girl! Yay! I am very exited; I hope I get to post the next chapter tomorrow.

* * *

**Chapter one: Life before Hogwarts**.

'Well, that'd be bound to be boring.' Dumbledore commented with a smile on his face yet in a deadpan tone.

he knew that he was right so long anyone'd be looking for thrills and adventures. But this first chapter would show -right off the bat- what Tom's opinion about this girl was…so it was important and not all that boring to him. But he decided to play with McGonagall a little.

.

.

And then the book began its story-telling:

On the cold snowy night of the 28th of February of the year 1926, Camellia Adams came into this world after three days of painful labor. She was called as such due to the discreet yet clear birth mark on her right inner thigh that looks just like the flower she was named after. She was born from two muggle parents: Nathan and Rachel Adams; father had the occupation of a typical police officer while the mother was a typical British housewife.

In a village north of Southampton, she was raised typically by her parents as a typical British young woman in a typical British home…yet there was always something very untypical about this girl…

She was raised indoors mostly, being home-schooled by her aunt who was an elementary teacher, but she still had many friends from her neighborhood to play and socialize with, as much as her parents tried to stop her by forcing homework on her, acting like the typical parents of a relatively privileged young woman.

That was done for but one reason: the said untypical thing the girl had was doing things no normal person could; she would move blow up or find things with nothing but the power of her mind when she wanted to, open locks and make others speak the truth; this muggle born girl had the gift of magic…

Her parents realizing that soon enough to not let her expose herself to people yet too late not to allow her to develop her skills, they came to the conclusion they should simply hide it and eventually, as the child would grow, it would go away. As much as they loved her, they requested she kept it hidden from everyone, suppress it –the only other person who knew was her aunt who tutored her- and practice it the less she could so it would disappear in the end. Not even her friends should they know…

She though, as much as she loved her parents -or perhaps for that very reason- she contradicted them deciding she should practice the more she could in order to gain better control over it thus never expose herself. And she also decided her parents shouldn't know about that so she did it in the secrecy of her bedroom…

But the time soon came the seemingly typical girl would be unmasked at her 11 years of age, as her parents received a letter-a most untypical letter, delivered to them with a most untypical mean: an owl. That letter said that their daughter was most special, indeed magical and she was accepted in the Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry, a school made exactly for those special people like her.

After making sure they were not being hoaxed by a most malignant and malevolent person, they realized that this was a very good thing that happened to them as it would lift them of their guilt for treating her the way they did and the care of this sometimes dangerous child; their daughter could finally be herself with her peers and she wouldn't have to keep herself from her impulses.

In truth they were sad for allowing her to go when they learnt that Hogwarts was a boarding school thus the girl would have to leave the house but they were also relieved she left because she wouldn't be causing them any more trouble.

The girl herself was very excited about going to this school as she felt that finally all of her efforts were being rewarded; in the time she had left from her 11th birthday until her leaving for Hogwarts she learnt all she could about the school from a neighbor who was two years older than her and he was already attending.

So, on the 1st of September of the year of 1938, Camellia Adams boarded on 11 a.m. sharp the train Hogwarts express from King's Cross train station. The same night of the same day she had found herself walking on the corridors of the great Hall where the deputy headmaster and transfiguration teacher, Professor Albus Dumbledore, led her and the rest of the first years to the Sorting hat ceremony.

.

.

.

_Wow_, Minerva thought amazed; _he definitely got a lot of information about her-I bet he got them fromher, too. So this must be the introductory chapter, barely two pages; heh, he didn't even pay attention to the fact that her parents made her the person she was and the only thing he said was that they were actually somewhat afraid of her and her abilities…I wonder if she told him that or if he just assumed it and wrote it; not that if it isn't in the book I could guess but I'm still curious. And the second chapter sounds summarizing enough._

She looked at the title of chapter two; she read out loud -not forgetting Dumbledore's painting behind her:

**Chapter two: early Hogwarts years (1st to 4th)**

But there was a little sub-title over there, saying:

**First meeting with Tom Marvolo Riddle; a lucky encounter.**

_Or maybe not so lucky, considering where that got her_… the older woman mused but then she noticed something; something she should have probably noticed the moment she read the tittle and that obviously none of her students noticed as well, seeing none mentioned it. Voldemort was referring to himself as Tom. Marvolo. Riddle; he hated being called that, as Tom was too ordinary a name. Then why would he keep addressing to his own self as such?

_Tommy Gaunt?_ she wondered as she recalled the name he had also signed with. _And _that_ didn't strike me as unusual?_

'Lucky? Well I don't know about lucky, but it certainly must have been eventful.' Dumbledore's ever cheery voice remarked; the old woman looked doubtful though. And she voiced her doubt.

'Their first meeting, Albus? They were but eleven years old, how eventful could it have been?'

'For their age at least, I'm sure it was unusual.' he continued, still not changing his tone.

McGonagall though, found it a bit tactless; sure this was a very interesting finding and the existence of the book alone was indisputable proof that Tom Marvolo Riddle, or Lord Voldemort as he preferred to refer to himself in later years, had indeed cared for a fellow human being but…wasn't Dumbledore being a little bit too happy over the fact he'd be reading the short -as she was sure it would have been- life of a rather bright witch, that hadn't she met Tom, she could have done great things in her life?

So no matter how she could pardon him with the "it's just an old man's last amusement" excuse it wasn't enough for him to be so excited over hearing the narration of the apparently few years of this girl's life. She showed her distaste with one of her trademark stares as she spoke the next, but the former headmaster could not be bothered.

'I guess…but there's something that's been troubling me…'

'Then go on dear…'

'Why in earth did he refer to himself as Tommy Gaunt on the cover? I thought he hated anything and everything not out of the ordinary.'

'Ah, well noticed Minerva, well noticed indeed; I could expect nothing less from our headmistress. Now, I must say I do not know but allow me to have a few sneaky suspicions for myself…as I suppose all will be revealed as we read on. So read on we must.'

Oh; did his tone -apart from the authority it always had- harbor a bit of commanding in it? He must have been dying of curiosity by now! That brought an actual smile on her face-a sly one, like she had rarely taken before. 'Fine; let's go on to the second chapter then.' She was the one who was amused now and Dumbledore didn't fail to notice it, having a sardonic expression now on his face…

.

.

.

Two weeks; not a few days, not one week but two whole weeks had passed and the book was still not in Harry's grasp…or Ron's. After one and a half week McGonagall had hogged the book for herself in her office -claiming two days were not enough time for a person with headmistress duties to read a book that big- now Hermione was hogging it just as much.

What the hell could possibly take Hermione that long to read anyway! It was Hermione they were talking about, she doesn't read the books-they open up for her and spill their guts on their own! And quite honestly she had nothing else to do other than read the damn book-the rest of her ministry work went down the drain so why hadn't she finished it yet?

And Hermione had even demanded, after reading it for a couple of days, that she would not be question on her progress on the book from either of them if they didn't want to read it by themselves.

So, after that indirectly phrased threat, they didn't bitch about it again and waited for her to come and tell them her verdict about it… Well, they didn't complain out loud or in front of her that is, because these kinds of thoughts swirled in their minds all the time, feeling the indignation –and anticipation- building up with each passing day.

Of course, due to the fact they had to stay there at least a week, Harry -after the third day of their already prolonged stay at Hogwarts- decided to ask from McGonagall to give him a place where he could set up as temporary headquarters for all the time they'd be spending there. She of course gladly obliged him and had allowed him to use the same office Remus Lupin was using when he was their DADA teacher. That pleased Harry the most and put a smile on both Harry and Ron's faces as they'd be spending the biggest part of their day where their favorite late teacher had. Well, Harry was also his son's godfather…

'She is truly maddening; I don't believe Hermione's taking almost a week to read the bloody book! She usually takes about a day –two tops! And now she's almost a week fawning over the damn thing -ignoring the rest of us in the process- and I can't help but want to rip this thing into pieces!'

'Ron…calm down, will you? Besides, your real problem is that she hasn't paid even the littlest bit of attention to you, isn't it? Come on, cut her some slack…not that I am not furious myself,' he said with a bit of strain in his voice 'but we did promise not to ask anything so there is no use talking about it after all.' he leveled himself in the end and curtly nodded as if what he had just said was final.

Ron huffed; he was so damn frustrated! Why would she be-?

Suddenly the door of their "office" flung open! An exited Hermione walked in, book clutched in her hands close to her chest.

'Boys…come along. Now.'

She gave them an ultimatum; there was no place for them to argue and they knew that so they rose up from their seats simultaneously as soon as she spoke. Of course, the fact she was holding the long awaited book in her two little hands was just as motivating as her imperative tone.

She left as quickly as she barged in and they had to quicken their pace in order to catch up with her; usually she was the slow one and she had the shortest feet so they realized what she'd read must have been very exciting, so, wondered as they were, they seemed to get excited, too.

'Mione, where are you taking us?' Ron was the first one to give in to his curiosity-dash-impatience; she grimaced annoyed, as if she just had heard the most ridiculous thing.

'Isn't it obvious? I'm leading us to McGonagall's office!'

'Why? I thought she'd already read it and she did say there was no reason for her to actually see the memories-'

'Sometimes you're worse than I ever dare to think of Ronald; you really don't know why we're going there?'

'No, so if you don't mind…'

This once it was Harry who sighed and thought his friend sometimes was really thick, so he felt the need to explain before Hermione finished her own long dramatic sigh.

'She said she didn't have to be present when watching the memories because she trusted us but that also means we're going to be somewhere she wouldn't trust other people to be alone…her headmistress's office bloke…'

'So you mean we're finally going to see the memories!' Ron's voice was a little too high pitched, being now truly excited, and his smile widened from ear to ear; he couldn't look forward to this enough in a whole life time.

They were about to see the darkest most feared wizard's childhood and adulthood memories of his…crush, as Ron liked to think and refer to her, and he was more than thrilled. Harry of course shared the same feelings, but for Harry it was even more personal; after all Tom Riddle had decided to kill off him and his whole family so now he'd know if he was ever a bit human to someone.

.

As soon as they arrived to the gargoyle-entrance of the headmistress's office Hermione hastily blabbed the password and in a few more -yet what it seemed to all, longer- seconds, they were up in the office. They looked at each other expectantly; before they knew it they all moved: Harry ran for where the Pensive was, as he had dived in it a lot of times during his sixth year, and the other two rushed after him, knowing fully well he was the most acquainted with the place.

The Pensive was revealed in a matter of some more torturing seconds and they all stood over it, just watching the mattered air or the non-matter translucent liquid.

The two boys looked at Hermione.

'So you're the one who read the book; where do we start?'

She smiled wickedly 'Why, from the beginning of course! Don't you want to see their first meeting "live" or will you be content just by a short narration from me? After all, first impressions are everything!'

Her speaking was different from before: she was speaking faster, more vigorously and with a certain anxious feel to it; she was nervous-nervous to show them what she knew.

_But hang on a sec; if she is so bloody thrilled over the book then how come she took so long to read it?_ Harry thought suspicious; but this once he did voice his thoughts. 'Mione, do tell me; if you liked this book so much then why did it take you so long to finish it?'

Hermione blushed violently, that alone giving away she did something she shouldn't or she somehow didn't keep her word one hundred percent. Her smile now became sheepish and she looked at the boys apologetically. 'Well, the first thing I did when I got it in my hands was to count the chapters…20 in total, but big. Yet I found out they went by really easily-Tom had very good writing skills and the book was captivating so I figured…'

'Yes?' they both asked incredulously yet a bit annoyed; their eyebrows were now giving her a rather spectacular performance. Hermione Weasly nee Granger was not that type of girl…

'Well, I promised myself I wouldn't read more than five chapters at a time so I can keep up the suspense. And it was all worth it-really! Oh guys, if you see how this ends-oh it's so heart breaking! Well, not entirely but-ugh! You have to see it! So let's not waste any time-off we go!' she was ranting while struggling with the book to release the first memory, attached on the third page of the book.

As she finished speaking she also finished untying the little pouch from the page and she poured it in the Pensive; without a second though she took a deep breath and unceremoniously grabbed the guys' heads and pushed them in the Pensive with her.

'Wh-A-…!'

'Mione-…'

But both men's protests were gone as she got and the three of them "underwater"; that all too familiar sensation Harry had been expecting to hit him, did but it was again amazing. Just like every time he Apparated, he knew the feeling, he knew it'd there yet every time he was caught by surprise; like drowning, the same breathlessness, the same diving-into-a-black-warp-like sensation hit them all but before they knew it, they found themselves into Tom's, lord Voldemort's, memory.

…the Hogwarts express.

* * *

And cut! Please review!


	4. The first stolen piece of their time

**A/N**: I said I would update fast and here I am! And it is freaking long! Well, it did take longer than a day but this is the best I could do after my beta reader bailed on me...Ah, never mind! Well, here it is and it starts inside Tom's first memory. The Hogwarts Express; yes, that's where they first met. Kinda cliche you think? Well, that is also normal and I didn't want to make it look too "special"-they are only eleven after all. So...

~Enjoy!

* * *

They found themselves inside Tom's first memory where the first meeting of the two people took place...

…the Hogwarts express.

'Wow; we are in the Hogwarts express! First Hogwarts, now the express…It feels first year all over again, this is so cool!'

'Shut it Ron.' both Hermione and Harry snapped at him but the former continued: 'Just put a sock in it and watch what's about to happen. Oh I was so anxious to see this! Well, to be completely honest I am anxious to see all of them but especially-…oh, I'll keep you on edge I won't tell you yet.'

The two males looked at her annoyed; not only had she read the book and knew stuff they didn't, she didn't even tell them or even give them a heads-up for the important stuff. Why hadn't they read the book themselves? Oh, the book is huge, right…

As they were about to snap something, they realized that all along they were in a compartment of the train with a young girl who was wearing her Hogwarts uniform of that time already –even if it was still sunny- and she was idly watching outside the window as the trees and the mountains they went by fast…

_But hold on just a minute; if these are Tom's memories then how come we haven't seen him yet? Why are we in the room with the girl?_ Harry thought suspicious; a glance to his right, he realized Ron was thinking the same thing while with a glance at his left, he saw a very mischievous grin plastered on Hermione's face. _So there is something going on…_he concluded and looked around sneakily.

Since no one could see them in these memories, he felt free to search all over either just looking or even attempting to go through the seats, the bags, everything! But what mainly held his interest was the girl. He beckoned swiftly to Ron –more accurately he verified his position- and he saw that both of them were doing the same thing; they smiled at one another without looking at each other though.

As he focused all of his efforts on her, he realized he couldn't entirely see her because the sunlight was still blinding and it made it difficult for him to see as it also reflected off of her face. What he also thought was weird was the fact that the girl, without even closing her eyes, was looking straight at the source of the light. But when he adjusted, he saw the girl better.

Of course the same could be said about Ron; squinting his eyes to bare the sunlight -as the girl was daft enough not to close the blinds- he made out the silhouette and the face of the person in question…

He had imagined her as a smaller, kinder version of Bellatrix Lestrange each and every time he thought about her; now he could see he was entirely wrong. He didn't know where to begin: her complex was darker than that of an average British yet she was not too dark; her hair were a warm brown colour, styled in a short bob and they appeared to be too soft and too inviting to the touch. Her face didn't have all those pointy ends Bellatrix's did –she only had a strong chin that looked structurally good on her- and she was much softer to the eye.

He couldn't see the colour of her eyes though nor did he know what to make of the things lying around; there was a book -like the ones Hermione enjoys reading and those he meticulously kept away from- resting on her lap, a bunch of homemade chocolates, a notebook, a quill and a pencil spread next to her on the seat and on the far end of the same seat, resembling a student that was punished and had to stand on the far end of the classroom alone, there was a… cat! A small, baby even, white with black stains on the nose and her back and two of her legs cat that its stomach moved rhythmically; it was sleeping.

What Harry also found odd was that the girl had the **book **resting on her lap while the _cat_ was sleeping alone at the other side of the seat; didn't she get these two a little confused or was it just his idea? But what he also noticed was that the normal –_**very**_ normal- looking girl had her wand clutched in her right hand. It was a black one and it looked longer than the average wand.

'It is 14 inches, dyed black, hawthorn with dragon heartstring core. Isn't that what you're currently both staring at?' Hermione asked amiably when the two men looked at her surprised.

'Wh-…you know everything! How can you still know everything?'

'Voldemort mentioned it in his book; I mean, come on boys don't you think it weird we're in this compartment with the girl instead of standing somewhere else with him?'

'You do have a point in that and I was wondering about it myself; so why we are here anyway-why aren't we somewhere in Tom's presence?' Harry asked, being the first to hear the underlined question that Hermione expressed with that seemingly simple inquiry.

Ron furred his brows and thought hard; suddenly he made a triumphant sound. 'I know! Because the memories aren't his after all-they are Camellia's!'

'Hum… well-reasoned Ron but no;' Ron's triumphant face darkened disappointed 'the memories are his. So you may have another go!'

He kept thinking hard-so hard that one could almost see the gears of his mind turning; Harry made another thought. 'Well if these are _his_ memories yet if we only see the girl up until now then…he is somewhere in here invisible watching her?'

'Ooh, close Harry very close; but no. Even Voldemort couldn't turn invisible at his eleven years of age... But he is somewhere near watching her!'

'Oh my God, what a stalker!'

'Come on Ron, he was eleven; as far as I can recall none of us was charming with the ladies at that age-we thought they were "The enemy" or something strange. If it weren't for Hermione we'd have a much harder time.'

'True.' Ron admitted remembering that he got over the social awkward part with women only after his 16th birthday so he should probably shut it. 'So he's somewhere near watching her but not in here right?'

'Exactly; and if you look right over there…'she drawled, pointing at somewhere outside of the compartment; they turned around -as they were looking at the girl from opposite her- and saw a bent young boy peeping inside, staring directly through them at the young girl 'you can see him.'

'He is literally a peeping Tom.' Ron commented so casually that and the three of them laughed; Ron had his moments.

But their laughs came to an abrupt end as the girl finally looked away from the sun…towards the three of them. 'Eep!' Ron exclaimed and went to duck out of the way. Harry smacked him on the head though, reminding him they weren't visible to them; Ron mentally slapped himself at his idiocy.

Still cursing himself in his head, he turned to see where the girl was looking at. It was Tom. The young Voldemort, realizing she spotted him –or at least she looked at him, because if she knew exactly where to look then it meant that she knew where he was before she even looked- stood up and came into the compartment.

He was swaggering, dressed in an exceptionally well preserved second-hand school uniform and he looked very proud. His chin was placed higher than the social contract would set it in meeting a new person… especially after he had been caught so shamelessly watching the said new person.

'So you finally decided to come in; that is a start!'

She had a strong British accent and her voice was cool yet somehow friendly; they didn't quite understand how she could produce that result but even as it was evident she was taunting him, her voice kept a light, cheery quality that was nowhere malevolent. She smiled at him, revealing a set of white teeth, and tilted her head to the side. That must have been her welcoming. 'Well, sit down…' she said nodding to the seat next to her, seeing the boy hadn't changed his arrogant expression yet not amiable or discontent. 'Oh; don't let my unfriendly cat dishearten you-she will never wake up unless you grab her by the tail so feel free!' she continued very friendly this once, losing all signs of tease and being completely honest; she hastened to take all the things off of the seat to make room for him.

When he saw that, he smirked a little and only then did he sit down next to her-sweeping the cat further away, borderline of making it fall. 'So nameless stranger, who are you? And why in the blazes have you been sneaking around like that? I'm not a man eater…'

'I was not spying on you if that's what you implied; I merely found it strange that all other compartments are full more than their actual capacity yet you are all alone in here.'

He had a hint of an Irish accent and he still didn't lose his arrogance completely-he only sounded a bit annoyed; yet he didn't leave…but his voice held some sort of authority over the young girl in front of him and clearly he considered himself above her. He started poking the cat's stomach a little, but stopped every time he or she spoke; she was watching him interact with his surroundings amused.

'Ah; is that so? Well then I must inform you I am very skilled at making people isolate me if and when I feel like it-a quality I acquired in times such as these in the muggle world.' She was as arrogant as he was and now she smirked, too.

The young Voldemort's eyebrows raised as his eyes widened significantly in surprise; he almost smiled. 'I am Tom Marvolo Riddle; what is wrong with this cat anyway?'

He had kept poking the poor cat while it slept…but the cat would still move its stomach up and down in the same inexistent beat, unaffected by Tom's finger; the girl laughed heartedly at his almost incredulous tone. 'When she sleeps she's like she's in a coma; she'll never wake up before she had her fill-just like her owner!' she answered when she managed to stop; she straightened up and sat fully. 'Camellia Adams amused to make acquaintance with you Tom.'

Just by the fact she said something so ordinary yet phrased and actually used so unconventionally was enough to attract Tom's attention and make the onlookers realize what it was that drew him to the girl. Witty and thinking out of the box probably she also didn't like the meaningless formalities-already they were able to gather this much. And he was-or at least seemed- not at all bothered by her laugh or her comments, something that could be called strange for the certain man; he finally smiled in acknowledgement and nodded. Then, worn-off and given up on trying to wake the kitten, he took her in his lap. 'So what is the lazy _cat's_ name?'

'Wh-are you calling me lazy through my cat?' she sounded faux-offended 'Well that is a first one' she admitted cheery 'and the cat's name is Jinx.'

'Jinx? Are you sure you want to call your pet like that?' a raised eyebrow accompanied his words and his stance altered a bit…like defending from her stupidity.

'Well, it was my nickname throughout childhood so I guess it fitted her as she is a miniature me!'

'Oh; you bring bad luck to people?' he asked now a bit wary either he really wanted to be in her presence or not; seeing his reaction she chuckled.

'Well, I was raised in a muggle environment so you can see how my friends thought I was a bearer of misfortune or at least odd incidents; I couldn't tell them I had "magical powers", they'd think I was crazy after a certain age. And yes, obviously I'm a muggle-born.' she was cheery yet the last sentence was suggestive and it only verified Tom's thoughts.

She could see him draw back in some sort of disapproval, even his face was a bit sour, and even though he didn't put the cat down and left, she saw his displeasure as she stagely revealed to him her "true colours". It appeared though as the girl felt proud and like she had nothing to hide; this was their first true "fight"-a struggle of acceptance.

.

.

If he had walked away now, that he found out she was nothing but a measly muggle-born witch, born from two parents like only one of his, then nothing would have happened; they would probably never talk to one another again. She would brand him like a blood-purity-loving git, a supremacist, a racist and a prat; he would brand her like an unimportant, good-for-nothing, annoying, and probably not skilled enough to attract his attention mudblood.

But neither of them said anything; neither of them did anything; they both kept sitting next to one another silently, weighing their "opponent" with nothing but a cold evaluative stare. She was almost provoking him to make an indecent comment on her blood status and her muggle heritage while she looked just as interested in knowing his blood standing, too. He was piercing her with his eyes, as if trying to see inside her head to read her thoughts (little did he know that in some years that would be practically possible for him); he was cool and collected, trying to hide his distaste but he couldn't, not as young as he was. He didn't have enough practice.

.

.

The moment passed, yet the tension that had built up around them seemed to reach its pique only now; 'So what dorm have you set your sights on?' The question relieved it all; a balloon pinched by a needle-still that was not enough to describe how the tension "deflated" so rapidly. Yet the strangest part was that it wasn't the conversationally pleasant girl who had asked that, but Tom; the sound was nonchalant, yet somehow demanding. She had decided, and that much was evident, she wouldn't speak to him again unless he spoke first. He seemed to understand this unspoken contract between them so he did make the first move. His hand, which had stopped petting the cat the moment she spoke of her bloodline, recommenced it absentmindedly again.

'I'm thinking Ravenclaw…wrong; I will try everything in my power to make the hat get me there!' and with that the tentative period was over; she was back on her usual tone again. He seemed to like –or maybe even appreciate- her latest comment and that brought a smirk to his face. 'And you Tom? What do you have in mind?' the tone of her voice made it clear she was half-aware of his choice.

'Slytherin is my choice of course; the dorm of the cunning and noble. But Ravenclaw? Are you smart enough for that-I doubt it?'

She was almost shocked, as her eyes widened in a dramatic fashion and she almost looked offended; but she still didn't lose the spark of her eyes, that they saw they were deep emerald. 'You on the other hand, will blend right in; no wonder this is your choice.'

'Ha-ha! Then again, I might be wrong about you; you'll be fine there, too.'

.

The three watchers were shocked…did he just laugh? Did he just honestly, frankly and like any other person, laugh? Not because it would _benefit_ him by showing he's amused by her comments, not because he had an ulterior motive but because he thought it was…funny? Ooh, that was skin-crawling.

Suddenly, the two 11yearolds froze in front of their bare eyes; without a warning, everything swirled around them and they found themselves in the great Hall. 'Hogwarts? Is this later the same day?'

'Very well observed Harry; I believe Voldemort fused his memories somehow together-he's done far worse than that so I do not worry about a feat such as this.' Hermione answered and started looking everywhere around the first years; she was searching Voldemort or Camellia's head-or even those two together. She finally found it! It was the surprisingly tall for his age Tom that drew her attention; as soon as she found it she nudged Ron and Ron nudged Harry on the rib and altogether looked at that direction while professor Dumbledore called out names and children were going up to the hat. Hold on; Dumbledore? This they had got to see!

'Oh my God, Dumbledore was a red-head!' Ron exclaimed exited, pointing at the now still colourful professor. Well, his hair might have been grey when they met him but he was still full of life so the "colourful" here referred exclusively to the colours and not his personality.

'Wow; it looked good on him.' Hermione commented; Harry rolled his eyes at both. He had seen him earlier so he was nowhere near surprised.

'Adams, Camellia.' the younger-looking Dumbledore announced, his voice loud as it resounded through the hall; they looked at Tom but saw he was alone, Camellia wasn't with him. So they looked at the direction of the hat; she would get up to get sorted anyway.

And she did; there she was, rushing to climb up the stairs to the sorting hat. She looked something between thrilled and mortified but the huge smile on her lips was reinforced as soon as she met Dumbledore's similar one. Yet his was kind and welcoming. She returned it and with renewed vigour she proudly sat on the stool.

The hat was placed on her head; but her sorting didn't come fast. The trio immediately ran close to the hat and the girl so they could hear what it said; usually only the one sorted could hear because the rest sat in a safe distance, but they intended to eavesdrop so they were dangerously close. 'Hum…you have a fine brain; it could do well no matter where you are put, but it would thrive in Ravenclaw. You also tend to procrastinate a lot and you appear to have a brave heart-one that would defend its beliefs and whoever you think is worthy of your protection, you would do well in Gryffindor-

* * *

'_Hey! That's mean!' Ron protested fevertly; maybe the hat was right about some Gryffindors -such as himself- do that, but that didn't mean it was a Gryffindor trait!_

_'Hush Ron!' the two said immediately, trying to hear the rest of what the hat was telling her._

_'But the hat is prejudiced-didn't you hear-?'_

_'**Hush** Ron!'_

* * *

-But then again, what's right and wrong is something personal for you, you don't follow the set of rules and ethics the others present to you, you make your own and you have a strong inward drive; it makes you an excellent candidate for Slytherin. And you are also proud, borderline snob and you like bragging-maybe a bit too much; you will not be easily liked, also components for a Slytherin. But what you're really proud of is your smarts…and you like being smart more than being sly; but you're too light-hearted on the homework department, not a very Ravenclaw-like trait.'

'I want to be in Ravenclaw though; you said I'm smart! I want to prove I am worthy of being in Ravenclaw so put me there.' she insisted trying to bargain with the hat; yet she didn't plead or even sound like it. She was actually making a statement, demanding to be put there! Well, she did say she would do everything in her power so this didn't come as a surprise...

'Now, now little girl; don't forget I can look inside your brain; you have no intention of being a diligent student, I can see this much…but you know that is not the only way to show you're smart, huh? Very well then; I shall grant your wish... **Ravenclaw**!' it shouted in the end; the usual cheers were heard from the Ravenclaw table as the girl, now beaming, widened her smile and headed there.

But before she did, she casted a look full of meaning –and superiority if they were not mistaken- towards the place they had spotted earlier the young Voldemort; they turned to him and saw him smirk, returning her look with one superior of his own as he watched her trot to her dorm table.

What neither Tom nor Camellia managed to notice, something that was mildly percepted by Harry only, was the pleasantly surprised twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, as he noticed this small exchange between these two eleven year olds. Dumbledore smiled to himself and called the next name on the scroll.

.

.

The three of them then, unconsciously moved close to Tom, literally stepping through the rest of the young children to get close and hear what he was saying; he was standing next to a blond man who looked like a spitting image of Draco…It must have been Abraxas Malfoy, Draco's grandfather and the two of them were chatting rather lively. So that actually meant Draco was a spitting image of him.

As they drew too close they heard what they were talking about: 'I have full confidence I will be sorted into Slytherin; it is not a matter of question. You see all of my ancestors and everyone who shares the same last name as I have never been sorted into another dormitory thus that is what my selection will be, too of course. The hat knows what to do for generations.' Abraxas's voice was obnoxious yet well trained in these sorts of conversations, demanding authority just by the mention of his name, with all the implications it held, but not that same authority Draco demanded.

That stroke as unexpected because the only eleven year old Malfoy demanded authority not by being a daddy's boy –like his grandson- but because he as a pureblood that needed to be respected, no matter his age. The guys couldn't quite tell which was worse, but they inwardly debated it anyway.

And all of that just to say he's a pureblood and like everyone else of his family he'll be sorted into the same dormitory? PSs, he was too much talk. And that appeared to be not just the trio's thinking but the young Voldemort's, too because no matter how he looked at the young Abraxas Malfoy he had a very arrogant, almost defiant glimmer in his eyes. Abraxas appeared to notice his amiable yet faux intentions but he still didn't drop his high-and-mighty act nor did he flee for a better company. He must have been brought up to believe that many will envy him for his pure-blooded status and apparently that's what he considered Tom to be, too. Well, he wasn't that far off.

'I must say, I had confidence I would be sorted into Slytherin myself but that is nowhere near your level; yours is a certainty! But you are a Malfoy, no wonder; noble and pure. I myself am a half-blood but that is only because my pure blooded parent was stupid enough to fall for the muggle one. Alas, I do not know if that one was the mother or the father but I do know one thing: I have inherited their amazing skills that will be more than exceptionally polished in the noble house of Slytherin.'

Oh well; Tom Marvolo Riddle was a smooth talker because even if he mentioned being a half-blood he did it in a way that was not noticed or at least it wasn't coloured the same way as it would have been if someone had just called him a half-blood. The fact he stated his discontent at the parent who fell in love with the muggle one was enough to earn him a point of respect in Malfoy's book, who almost sympathetic. Not honestly sympathetic but that was all the eleven year old Tom could ask for. And the fact he complimented Malfoy and referred to him and Slytherin as noble and pure it definitely helped a lot.

'I'm certain we will be together in Slytherin so I'll offer a word of caution; muggleborns can be quite alluring. At first I thought it was your mother who was seduced by the muggle but now I believe it might have been your father-you know "runs in the males of the family". But Slytherin does not tolerate much affiliation with them-same thing with blood traitors.' he finished shooting a nasty look at where the young Septimus Weasly sat at the Gryffindor table.

Tom looked wondered and innocent at the boy's words; but Abraxas didn't buy it. He only narrowed his eyes interested and smirked. 'Oh come on; I saw you in the train with that mudblood and now she just looked at you-and you looked at her, too. I suggest you break all connections with her if you want to be accepted in our dormitory which I am almost convinced you will be. Just get over the little problems. And, oh well, if you still want to be around her, make sure you taunt her a lot in public and keep it under wraps or the rest will never let you live it down. Ah they are calling me; see you at the table Tom.'

Well now, didn't the young Abraxas have a very perceptive mind? And not just that, but he didn't even tell on him on the rest; maybe he wasn't that fanatic muggle hater he later was made out to be by Draco. Well, maybe in their heart of hearts the purebloods weren't always such supremacists as they were in public but still.

And Tom didn't look all that happy that someone –especially his pureblood schoolmate- said something like that to him; the little twitch that threatened to break out on his face was annoyance. Annoyance he was caught with the girl, annoyance someone dared to tell him what to do and annoyance that he referred to Slytherin as "our" dormitory.

But a second later he was verified as the moment Abraxas sat on the stool he got up; the hat didn't even have to be fully placed upon his head to shout: "Slytherin." Tom's expression became hungry; hungry to be sorted in there, too to show the girl she was not the only one who could get into the dorm she wanted and hunger to prove better than that annoying snob Malfoy. Oh yes, he was decided.

'No wonder; all Malfoys go to Slytherin. Well, I will be joining him anyway so no big deal. I heard you want to be into Slytherin, too.' The boy who spoke out of the blue took an evaluative look at Tom from head to toe; he smirked. 'Welcome aboard. I'm sure you'll be joining the fun shortly. But, well, I guess earlier than me; you're a "Ri"-Riddle; I'm a "Ro"-Rosier; nice to meet you.'

'Well, isn't that great? You'll all be joining the snake house, baby-snakes.' A girl from Hufflepuff had said that as contemptuously as she could. Wow; Hufflepuff? They used to come brave there, too! …or she was bullied excessively by Slytherins as she was a third or fourth year.

Just as the rosier boy was about to say something very foul to the girl in response, even if only eleven and apparently younger, Tom took the floor. 'You don't know that; give us a chance first. Besides, not all Slytherins are bad-we only managed to get ourselves a bad name.' he said politely and smiled apologetically, like shouldering the "sins" of his seniors; the girl, quite taken aback, she smiled awkwardly back. She didn't know what to make of this new boy and he looked like a good one, too. So it stroke her as unusual he would want to enter Slytherin, painfully oblivious to his talk with Abraxas.

When Rosier looked at him like demanding an explanation –almost offended by the way he interrupted him and talked to the girl- Tom gave him a knowing smile. 'Diplomacy; diplomacy is the best way to solve argument before they even break out. If you are truly looking for a change of rules then you must first be acquainted with all the players of the game.'

Wow; he was deep for an eleven year old boy.

'I like you already Riddle.' he commented, the same knowing smirk fixed on his lips, too now and they kept watching the ceremony of the sorting quietly; until Tom was called.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

Dumbledore's voice was the same yet somehow completely different than when he called all those other names; he gave Tom a piercing look under his glasses, which meant he had made sure he had spotted his location, and nodded for him to come. The boy was rather surprised by Dumbledore's display –Harry could bet he was actually curious now- but wasted no time in getting up there to get sorted himself.

Dumbledore's eyes followed him all the way from his place in the crowd to the stool and he must have felt like there was being a whole dug at the back of his skull by now; yet he didn't lose his cool and sat with his held raised high. The moment it approached his head, just like with Malfoy, the hat shouted: "Slytherin" and he smirked.

_Dumbledore had sooo seen this coming_, was what all three of them thought upon seeing his reaction to the news; Tom though, as delighted as he was, he spared one brief arrogant look for the young girl who he'd met before. When they looked over, the girl had rolled her eyes amused and then pretended ignorance, as she raised her hands in the air; unexpectedly she stuck her tongue out to him and smiled. Tom seemed to enjoy this brief exchange as he was walking to the Slytherin table…

And everyone started becoming a blur; faces were lost and words were taken away. They realized that was the end of the first memory.

* * *

Oh, finally! I updated and you finally saw Camellia, too! Did you like her? If any of you thinks she sounds Mary-Sueish say so immediately; I hate them being Mary-Sues...So feel free to tell me what you think and review!


	5. An odd mix

**A/N**: Tam tararaaaa! Here it is; next chapter is up! I think this came so much later than the previous one...well, one can say I hit some sort of a rock until I could come up with the next memory and write it down properly but I will just say I was busy instead! He-he either way, here it is, I hope it is intersting!

* * *

As everyone started becoming a blur, faces were lost and words were taken away. They realized that was the end of the first memory.

.

"That was awesome! Did you guys see my grandfather? Malfoy's granddad and my granddad hated each other long before we were born; no wonder me and Malfoy think each other as trash! And he actually knew-he was older than Voldemort! Oh my God! And Malfoy's granddad was "friends" with him-and did you see what he said about Camellia-?"

"Ron, I think you're about to have a heart attack or something…breath evenly, come on I know you can."

Ron was thrilled; he was speaking almost incoherently and inconceivably as he waseing too fast due to his excitement. He had never met his granddad; he had died not long after he was born so he always remained a distant figure for him. But now he got a chance to put an actual face to his father's story-telling. So no one would lessen that for him…not to mention he had just witnessed the darkest wizard of all times to act adolescent.

"Oh shove it Harry; and in case you haven't noticed or didn't know anyway, your granddad was in there, too!"

Harry thought Ron was being immature; how could he go off like that over seeing his grandfather? It wasn't like he was sort on family members-hell, he even provided a family member for him, namely Ginny, so-…wait; his grandfather was there too? That he had to see!

"What? Where? Hermione, can we go back?"

Hermione thought both of them were acting like hyper active children; she slapped her forehead.

"No we can't; we don't have time to be repeating memories-we must see the more we can until McGonagall dismisses us. I'm sure we'll get to see Mister Potter in some other memory if only but a glimpse. He is a pureblood after all. Now let's move on to…an event from second year."

_Second year; why not another from the first?_ both boys thought and just as they were about to ask her, realizing what they wanted to say she managed to out-speak them.

"You'll come to realize that this relationship was built overnight yet for some reason it dragged more than three years to be established."

Her last sentence was there because she saw the boys' surprised faces; ah, men. They knew so little of feelings…and the saddest proof of them all was the man whose memories they were currently prying in as, even in the end of his book, he didn't even…well, she shouldn't think about that and get upset now; she should wait until the guys see it too and then they'd get exasperated altogether.

After all, McGonagall had already alerted the ministry officials she was supposed to and Draco Malfoy; he had alerted his father and his great aunt to come to Hogwarts and then… all the frustration could be equally distributed or relieved together.

"So which memory is next Hermione?" Ron asked excitedly; she could see the anticipation building up inside them and she was greatly amused she was the reason it was prolonged…she loved that!

"I told you, 2nd year! Oh, and this is a very nice one-you boys are lucky; you will be shown and you'll explore his memories with someone who knows exactly where to take you! Don't you feel lucky?"

Eye-rolling was compulsory in this case for both.

"Yeah, very." Ron snapped.

"Stop showing off Hermione and just show us which the next one will be." Harry drawled annoyed; sometimes his best friend could get very exasperating.

"Alright;" she mumbled pouting "but you'll let me make a brief introduction first, deal?"

"Deal!"

" 'K… now then; you remember what Malfoy told him when they were discussing about the girl? You see, regrettably, Tom sort of took Abraxas's advice; their relationship was…odd-there was but there also wasn't. They were friends but they weren't. She'd help him and he'd help her with unimportant to important staff but they would be…hostile to one another; snappy. Now, this is a grant example of both of that and…you know what? No more talking from me, you'll see it for yourselves. Come now, into the Pensive!"

Just as soon as Hermione uttered the last five words the boys held their breaths; they all gathered around the Pensive once more –as they had scattered a little while talking as they had much interest in exploring how McGonagall had decorated the place- and Hermione untied the little pouch pouring the memory inside once more. Holding their breaths, they dived in…

The same feeling washed all over them again, and after a split second they found themselves standing into Tom's next memory; they found themselves in Hogwarts grounds.

.

.

They did not think it was odd they were in Hogwarts -after all they met socialized and spent most of their year in the school- and it would be odd if they weren't there. As they looked closer, trying to figure out the particular place they were currently standing on, they saw they were in the Great Hall.

It was still sunny outside and all of the children wore their uniforms so this must have been lunch; all the teachers were sitting at their tables, supervising the students as they ate. But one teacher, the younger version of Albus Dumbledore, was staring somewhere in particular, ignoring the rest of the quarrelling or talkative students.

Just as Ron was about to ask where the hell was Tom or Camellia, he saw what Dumbledore was looking at so interested: not too far at the back, it was the tall figure of Tom Marvolo Riddle standing next to a Ravenclaw house table; next to him was sitting a brown semi-long haired girl that was playing with her food.

Yes, that was them!

The three peeping adults immediately ran to where they had seen the pair of them and extended their ears while running to catch anything they might miss.

When they reached them, they saw that the girl was looking bored, not satisfied at all, and she was playing with a bit of apple pie with her fork; her other hand was supporting her chin lazily. He on the other hand was standing to his full height, clearly not amused by the situation he was currently in, and both literally and metaphorically looking down on Camellia.

"You were wrong; now can you eat the damn piece already?" Tom snapped and shot her a very nasty look. She retaliated with rolling her eyes away from him.

"I wasn't; I shall not finish until I want to and I don't feel like getting up from the table without Julie-she asked me to."

Her eyes landed on a black long haired girl next to her, wearing also her Ravenclaw robes; at the mention of her name, she chocked on what she was eating and turned around "horrified".

"Right Julie?" she continued in that arrogant tone she had last time they saw her, turning to face her -probably- friend.

The girl chocked on her water now-the water she tried to drink because she chocked earlier. "Wh-cough-wha-cough-I don't-cough, cough-"

"Oh please!" both Camellia and Tom snapped simultaneously; with a wordless turn of their wands the girl stopped coughing immediately.

"Eh!" Julie breathed in surprised, having a confused look on her face. "I didn't know there was a second student in this school who could do wordless magic! Wow, Tom you're good!"

"Thank you." he said kindly to her but his gaze became almost cruel when he looked at Camellia "But to think that I couldn't do something _she_does…" he snapped superiorly; Camellia looked at him in distaste.

"…it would mean she still has a brain."

As Tom was about to retaliate, looking nothing but offended, she didn't give him the chance. "Now Tom if you'll excuse us, she still wants to finish her food so you-"

"Oh, by all means, please, don't mind me; off you go you two, off you go."

"Ha! That's great; let's go then!"

Camellia looked at Julie betrayed beyond words, sending her all sorts of accusing and condemning looks; Julie though, blocked her out and concentrated on being nice to Tom as if she had done it one purpose.

"No problem; just make sure you bring her back before six. I have some transfiguration questions" at the mention of the class, Tom's smile froze "that need to be answered and for some reason she is such a Dumbledore expert;" now his smile was gone completely 'seriously Cam' I don't know how you do it. He speaks in a different language and you're amongst the few people that can understand him."

Tom looked far from amused at this talk that had broken out about Dumbledore; apparently Camellia knew of Dumbledore and Tom's problems so she was smirking but shooting a provocative look at her friend now

"Yeah that's because he speaks "smart"; you couldn't possibly understand him Jules." Camellia snapped at her friend who got her into a situation she obviously didn't want to find herself in.

"Then she's right to be confused how you can understand him-you aren't that bright yourse-ouch! Camellia!"

The young girl had stopped the future dark lord from further insulting her by literally beating him-an elbow hit on his rib cage; Julie started laughing. But the young man was not impressed; he was shooting daggers at the perpetrator of the vile act while the said criminal was smirking at him. Camellia stuck her tongue out and giggled a little with her friend.

"Just get your arse off of the bench and let's go."

"Fine…but you missy, when I come back today you'll pay for this."

"Hum? I don't know what you're talking about…" Julie replied playfully and watched them with a smile on her face as Camellia stumbled on her way off the bench –almost fell- but didn't let the slight laughs from the people closest to her dishearten her; she stood with her head up high.

Of course, she elbowed Tom once more for being one of the people who laughed and then proceeded to follow him out of the Great Hall; the three followed immediately.

Tom was walking ahead of her, first, leading the way purposefully quicker than her as if falling into pace with her would hurt his pride. She, on the contrary, was walking purposefully slow, much slower than she should, having her hands in her robe pockets. Both looked extremely detached…yet one could feel the struggle for dominance from the way they carried themselves and the way of their walking: his back straight, his head up high, his stride proud; she was slouching, head tilted to the side, paces small and synchronized to some inexistent beat.

After a couple of minutes of complete silence where the only sound that was heard was their shoes on the stone floor, Tom turned around to look at her; he was surprised to see how far she had fallen behind that it caused him to stop and wait for her a moment or so. And that was it; the girl had won this fight because the moment she saw him halting she smirked.

"Do keep up Camellia, would you?"

"Stop bossing me around Tommy, will you?"

He bit his lip, biting back the insult that threatened to escape his mouth; he didn't take well to being called "Tommy", did he?

"I have told you thousands of times: don't call me like that; I hate it."

"Oh? You hate "Tommy"? It's just a variation of your name though, innit? I mean, come on-see it from my point of view: people - even you- call me Cam, Rose, flower-power as a nickname from my actual name and all sorts of stuff and I don't complain because I like my name. But you hate being called not just Tommy but Tom, too…why do you hate your name?"

His eyes grew malignant but his expression was cold; she was a bit taken aback by his sudden change of behaviour but kept staring at him straight in the eyes…Now, Tom Marvolo Riddle glaring you down was certainly disturbing, but the way she was just staring at him, as if he was some sort of peculiar specimen or a puzzle she had to figure out, was very unnerving.

They had never thought a person so neutral and plain-looking could make the hair on the back of your neck stand straight with a single look; yet there she was, rendering them -and most certainly Tom- completely speechless.

"It's none of your business." he bit out and proceeded to walk wherever it was that he was leading her.

"Oh come on; you won't tell me what is it that has led you to hate your own name? Tom is a very cute name-short and easy to roll off the tongue-"

"-and also very mundane; not to mention it was given to me by my mother to honour my father, of all people…"

When he uttered those words, more hatred than he wanted -or had planned to- escaped his lips; immediately, looking somewhat panicked he stopped himself from saying what he wanted to say to her but he shouldn't. She though, looked suddenly sympathetic and her eyes took a greener shade than three seconds ago; her expression softened on him, as she was now staring at his back -he had turned around already and started walking away- and she gave him a sad smile.

Wow; he had just earned the sympathy vote from her without ever trying! He was good… and she was very emotional. Surprisingly it all worked out in his favour, cause even if she was so smart she obviously couldn't see beyond the lies or his "softer side" –in other words, his bad childhood.

She rushed to his side with renewed vigor -and smile- and grabbed him by the arm; he looked almost shocked by their sudden proximity and her daring move. And he even made it known by trying to shake her off…yet not with too much effort from his part.

"Fine; I won't be calling you Tom. You are right, it's too short, too easy to roll of the tongue, too mundane…but I just love calling you "Tommy" you know? And it's bigger, too!"

""I still hate it.' he continued resolute; she pouted by his decisiveness.

"Oh please…just for me-I will be the only one calling you like that, what say you?"

She had the "puppy look" going on: the correct amount of whining, the correct amount of pout and the correct amount of eyes flickering; his eyes darted to nothingness, his head following suit, to cover up a little blush that crept to his face.

"Alright…just you though; should I hear anyone else calling me like that I'll forbid you, too, gerrit?"

"…Deal; but you will not put anyone up to it on purpose so I can't call you like that, alright?"

Was that girl reading his mind? That seemed to be the question on young Voldemort's mind and face as he gazed at her longer than he should; she was such a troublesome and potentially dangerous person to handle…yet he did not concern himself with these on the particular moment, he only shrugged her off, successfully this once.

"I'd never do that…" he finally said when she was at least five inches behind him.

"Right." she drawled for emphasis "Do I really look that gullible?"

"…Yes."

He stated more than actually answering.

"Oh put a sock in it!"

He chuckled. "That's rich coming from you!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"That for a Ravenclaw your mouth is bigger than your book; don't you bookworms have it the other way round?"

"Ah!" snapped the girl mortally offended "That's very stereotypical! Because you don't see me making a big deal out of you being a complete outright twit -especially since you're friends with that blood-loving git Malfoy!"

"Well what are the chances of that; he actually keeps saying the same thing about you!"

"Oh did he, now-that little slithering snake! What else did he say? How tactless of you is to fall in crowd with people like me-muggle borns? Or, how he prefers calling them, mudbloods?"

The word rang like a resounding bell in both youngsters minds…she, one could see on her face the disgust, didn't like those sorts of distinctions and hated the hatred that originated from those pure-blooded families that thought they were better than anyone else just because of their blood rather an acquired trait. If they hadn't earned it form their efforts then what good did it make them? People had to strive for their privileges or else they didn't deserve them and all those blood-obsessing idiots definitely didn't fit that category.

He on the other hand looked to be stung a little by the use of the certain word; he had turned his head the other way, even more than before when he tried to hide his shame, and looked very sour and ashamed just by the sound of it…

Wait, what? Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort, **the** Voldemort, was not feeling well with the term mudblood? Why in earth?

He'd made it clear when they saw him talking with Abraxas that he didn't mind with his way of thinking…so was this just another one of his acts in order for him to be liked? But if so, why, what did he have to gain from this girl? She had no blood status, no money and no fame; sure she must have been strong if she was able to produce wordless magic -even if it was but ordinary every day bit of magic- at such young age but that was not enough.

"Well yes; he has been saying that…" he barely admitted and looked very uncomfortable; she didn't quite care though because his little confession appeared to send her into a little mental tantrum.

"But of course he did; he is so much better than everyone else just because his parents preferred incest to proper marriage, how nice; no wonder he came out like that!"

"Don't talk about my friends that way; he may be a bit extreme about certain matters but he's a very good friend."

He defended him, yet without a hint of fire in his voice, in contrast with the girl's burning one; it was almost like he had taught himself to say these things when in public and someone insulted someone he should consider as a "friend".

"But you can't really cross your heart and say he'll be a good man when he grows up, can you? Honestly now Tom, I am your friend, too; I wonder if you stick up for me the same way you stick up for them when they call me names. Or is it because they are powerful and rich and important that you just shut it?"

Oh no… she had obviously touched a nerve; Tom's face grew red with anger.

"Then again, if you stick up for me the exact emotionless and petty kind of way, it'd be better if you didn't do it at all-"

"Listen here you crazy maddening Ravenclaw! Just because they have money doesn't mean I am their servant just because I don't nor does it mean I do whatever they ask me! I am perfectly capable of forming opinions about people through my own eyes and I need no one to tell me what to think! So I suggest next time you think before you speak-not very Ravenclaw of you either to do the opposite; are you sure the hat put you in the right dorm? Somehow Hufflepuff sounds better for you this very moment."

"How dare you! How can you say-how-…?"

She stopped short taking a big intake of fresh air, trying to cool herself.

"If you can make your own assessmentsabout people and you obviously seem to side with Malfoy on your opinion about me –at least if you should be around me or not- then I don't know why you're even here." she said in the end, fighting with herself either not to lose her cool and stutter or not.

When she finished she took the face of the absolute victor of this argument and stopped dead in her tracks; her hands crossed around in front of her chest, her head firmly set the other way from where Tom was once standing and her feet were practically glued on the floor.

.

He'd kept walking, the same faint red rising to his cheeks -they still thought it was unnatural to see lord Voldemort, even as a child, blush- and now he seemed to regret a tiny bit all the bad things he had said about her not deserving to be a Ravenclaw.

He struggled with himself either he should stop and turn back or keep walking nonchalantly; should he do it and make up with the girl –and lose face while doing it- or should he keep on moving leaving his ego and his pride attached but having destroyed all good relations with the girl? Neither worked for him.

But why was he worked up over this one Ravenclaw muggle-born anyway? She wasn't important or useful to any of his objectives…yet deep inside him he felt he didn't want to mess up things with Camellia so badly that she wouldn't even want to talk to him. Their fights have been growing in size and volume ever since they had first met but they were enjoyable and amusing to him. He saw it as a chance to relax and be something different from what he normally was in his dormitory, something that he couldn't really be with them; she gave him that opportunity.

He just didn't want to lose that, they could all see it in his face as the gears of his mind kept turning.

And he bet all he had in his possession right now that the girl didn't fall back off; she did like his company or else there was no reason for her to still keep up a friendship with him if she didn't think he was worth it. So he tried something different from the two options he had in mind.

"What-aren't you going to help me with Dumbledore's essay? Even though you and I are amongst the few people who can understand him I thought we had established you were the expert; come on. It's due to Friday, only three days left."

. . .

He said it as if there was nothing wrong, and nothing had happened, as if he had just seen her turn on one of the corridors and stopped her to ask her; she resumed walking, all signs of hurt pride or victorious argument gone.

"Well, duh; but don't forget, you promised to help me on Potions in return. I swear that Slughorn has it in for me; you see how he always asks me the toughest questions especially when I'm not paying attention…? And I am not the only one who is distracted at that time, too."

. . .

_She_ was plainly conversational, even pleasant, and she did something so ordinary: talk about teachers and classes and problems like she would have with any other friend, like he hadn't just thrown at her all those names and like she hadn't just told him off.

"If you want to get you have to give; don't worry I haven't forgotten. But we'll have to do it tomorrow after Charms, alright?"

"Wh-"

"Yes, I do know it's late but didn't you hear Julie? She wants you back by six today; not to mention the workload for tomorrow's classes is huge! So I promised her I'd get you there and I can't break a promise and I do have to do the homework for tomorrow so we'll do the potions tutoring tomorrow around eight."

"Eight? Eight! Are you mental? If anyone catches us out of our dormitory we're dead-we're only second years after all!"

"I'll come to your dormitory tomorrow; it does have easier access than mine." he said suggestively in the end; she pouted annoyed.

"Why-because the doorknob asks a question instead of a password that you have to get right? Please…your password is a joke!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes; I even guessed it once-care to know which one it was. "Pureblood"; oh how unusual!"

"Come off it!"

.

.

.

What. The. Hell? Why were they acting like the past five minutes of their argument had been erased? In fact why were they acting like their whole argument was erased? Did they really think that previous arguement of theors was not enough to harm their friendship or had they adopted that sort of way to deal with their fights? Or were they merely trying to screw with their heads? And where they really going where they thought they were going-at the dungeons?

They were actually going at the Slytherin dormitory…wow. They both certainly were brave to walk into the "mudblood haters" den with a muggle born-especially when he was a half-blood himself. But then again no one had ever accused the dark lord of being a coward so that wasn't surprising; and if he wanted to be the man he would eventually grow up to be, then he definitely didn't care about other people's opinions…

They were following them silently yet all of them were thinking; they were thinking so many things that they didn't pay much attention to what the two quarreling students in front of them said –as this had evolved in another typical Hogwarts fight-of-the-houses argument- but they all came to a sudden stop when the two reached the dungeons.

"…And I am going to prove it to you, see: Salazar Slytherin." she said with raised hands to the door...which opened for them.

Tom -and the guys- looked at her surprised.

"That's impressive; how did you figure it out? Did you use a spell prior to coming here?"

"…OK, to start off, stop using that kind of language to impress people; it doesn't work on me so plan failed." He rolled his eyes "Secondly I would like to inform you that I was trying to make a point on the predictability of your dormitory in coming up with passwords thus I would never lower myself to set something up in advance because that wouldn't prove my point but completely ruin it instead."

"Now you're the one who's trying to impress me with pretty words." he whispered playfully to her while going into the dormitory; she blushed.

"…So as I was saying, I just guessed; pure luck…And I'm not!"

"Are to!"

"Am not!"

"Are to!"

"St-stop, this is embarrassing…and I wasn't!"

"Yes you were!"

"Shut it!"

"Not until you admit it."

"Shut-!"

**Bang!**

A loud noise interrupted Camellia; a book being slammed, Hermione realized first, was the sound.

"No; both of you, please just shut the bloody hell up before I put a damn silencing spell on both of you! Alright? Some of us actually have serious homework to do, like NEWTs."

The said protest was voiced by apparently quite a temperamental seventh-year who was trying, yet failing, to concentrate on what he was reading; Ron and Harry almost laughed -as they didn't get through with last year- but Hermione looked utterly sympathetic and understanding of the man in question. The two of the "intruders" looked at him apologetically and, in Tom's case only, ashamed.

"Sorry." they blurted out simultaneously and continued for Tom's room.

Just as they were about to climb the stairs that led to the boys' rooms following Tom and Camellia, their footing became unstable; everything became black and a glimpse later, they were standing in McGonagall's office…

* * *

**A/N**: I honestly didn't believe it would come out this long yet again...but once more it did. I have to start writing smaller ones, really; I think I am tiring the person who reads it. Either way, I would like to know what you think about everything-the story, the characters, -is Tom being OC?- even if you think the chapters are too long. So review and let me know what you think!


	6. Quidditch!

**A/N**:I'm back everyone! Hello, hello; I hope you were not disappointed by the wait. Anyway, not many introductions this once and please enjoy! (This chapter was huuge; it started out 8.000+ words but I managed to make it smaller...that that.)

* * *

_They were standing in McGonagall's office…_

'Wow!' Ron exclaimed, more like stated judging by the tone of his voice. 'I mean…wow!'

'No kidding! Oh my God; T-Tom was…Tom actually was-wow! You're right Ron-wow.'

Hermione chuckled; the boys were being the boys again: what motives feelings and thoughts all of Voldemort's actions held were summarized for them in that little expression. But she couldn't blame them of course; she was left speechless after every single chapter and she never tried to describe it in words so she guessed she'd be but a little more eloquent herself, had she tried to describe it.

It was so different yet so ordinary to get to know -and now watch- Tom with this girl that it made her relate with both of them: it almost looked as if lord Voldemort was human, he had a "lady friend" and he was even trying to get along with her. Throughout his entire book, too as this wasn't and wouldn't be the last time he'd made a move to bridge a gap between them; a gap that was as invisible as much it was actually there, real that it felt tangible even if just void and the worst part was that they could both feel it, too. They knew it was there, they knew it would always be there yet every time they met one another they tried to bypass it or other times reduce it or bridge it. And sometimes they did and sometimes they didn't. The previous memory was a perfect example on how far yet how close they felt and really were to one another: they could fight over the simplest of things and make up for the most unimportant reason. That's just how she was-exceptionally moody and carefree but she would always fight for what she believed in while he was always calculative and adjustable. They were two polar opposites which is-…was probably why they got along the way they did or even got drawn to one another on the first place.

'And you haven't seen anything important yet; we'll see a third year and a fourth year memory and call it a day, OK? But the real good stuff comes tomorrow; fifth year was a long and eventful one. And so was sixth-and seventh! Generally all of their years were very eventful but seeing as Tom's interest in dark arts only got deeper after third year you can see why things played out like that: fourth was the transitional one…'

'Alright but lemme ask just one thing; if he changed like you said and the transition was made at fourth year, then didn't she notice something? Maybe she got a gut-feeling aren't you women good at that?' Harry remarked; Hermione could see his reasoning.

'Yes, of course; you are right, women are much more intuitive and she was more than normal, too. She practically did everything according to her gut-feelings.'

But Ron didn't see it. 'Make your point.' he said in a hurry.

'I mean…how did she react? Didn't she try and do something to prevent or change that?'

Oh yes; Harry was spot on. Ron seemed interested especially after noticing Hermione's pointed smile. 'You'll see; all in due time. Now come on…let's see the next shall we?'

* * *

This once they found themselves in…the quidditch grounds. Wait, the quidditch grounds-what could they be possibly doing there? And it wasn't even in the field; they were outside the changing rooms-the Ravenclaw changing rooms…and the girls' changing rooms too.

Ooh, was Tom being a bad boy? 'Maybe the peeping tom syndrome hasn't passed yet.' Ron commented.

Speak of the devil they saw him supporting his back against the door of the changing rooms rather absent-minded already in his quidditch gear. 'Voldemort played quidditch for the Slytherin team!?' he exclaimed with his chin hanging open; Harry was just as surprised as his best friend but he guessed Tom wanted and managed to fly all by himself in later years because he liked flying probably with a broom. So Tom being on the quidditch team did sound like a good possibility.

'Well, he did fly all by himself when we faced him…he must have gotten the idea from somewhere.'

'Actually he says it in his book; he loved flying from his first lesson with a broom and he joined the team on his second year as a-'

'-beater, we can see his bat Hermione.'

She pouted; she hated when other people did that to her. The guys smiled wickedly to one another for that certain reason: they knew she hated it but she also knew they hated it yet she kept doing it to them.

Finally the door opened –taking Tom by surprise thus causing him to lose his footing for a second- and just as soon Tom was safely out of the way, they saw three girls coming out one after another. First there was an older girl, probably sixth or seventh, in quidditch uniform holding her –apparently just bought broom- and the quaffle; then it was the girl they'd seen in the previous memory with the black hair -'Julie, right 'Mione?' 'Yes Harry.'- in the quidditch uniform holding a standard school broom and a bat; and last but not least was Camellia, running after both in her school robes with -what they could see- rosy cheeks.

She was taller and her hair now were longer than the last time they had seen her, reaching her chest, and she had also put on a little weight; her scarf was tightly wrapped around her face –the only thing visible were her eyes- and she generally looked uncomfortable in contrast with the girls that walked out before her, proudly and obviously unaffected by the weather conditions that seemed to get so much to Camellia.

When she walked out of the changing rooms though, third and last in row, Tom rushed to her and they started walking together to the quidditch pit. 'Are you cold?' he faked concern; when she gave him a murderous look he chuckled. 'Don't worry-all you _lizards_ are.'

She instinctively hit him with her –what they saw- gloved hands on his shoulder twice each hand; he looked happy though. 'So came to see the try outs, huh? Good thing both Ravenclaw and Slytherin will be having them today don't you think? Even if it sort of is against the rules, but since the original Slytherin try-outs turned out to be a complete disaster-

'And whose fault that was?' they heard her muffled voice.

-I suppose this is the only way. But it is a good thing because you won't have to leave the safety of the castle for more than once in this week.'

'What is that supposed to mean?' she was barely heard yet again because she just wouldn't remover the scarf; but he heard her. Somehow he always did, which was deemed weird by everyone around them-even her friends would say it is abnormal their level of communicating.

'Well, if my try-outs were tomorrow or the day after you'd have to come out again, wouldn't you? Its better you got it like this or else you'd freeze your arse off more than planned-which has gotten bigger by the way. Just what in Slytherin's name have you been eating lately?' he inquired and actually made the motion of looking at her butt as it was a way to prove his claim.

* * *

Even with the scarf so high, they didn't fail to notice the strong crimson colour that made it to her cheeks and then face; she hit him again the same way, ashamed and very angry, only with more force –as it was expected. He winced but still kept smiling.

How could he have actually said something like that to her? No matter what kind of a git you are you never insult a girl –and a friend to top that off- about their weight; the only time you are allowed to do that is if they ask you about it and they request an honest opinion. He couldn't just say that to her so nonchalantly yet serious sounding-no wonder she hit him so hard!

For the first time that morning, she pulled the scarf down.

'Wh-_**Tom**_! I-I haven't been eating anything out of turn, just my appetite gotten bigger! And I am not that bad-it's just a couple of pounds-'

'A couple of _ten_ pounds-'

'Ah! You did not!'

'What if I did?'

'I-I am fine and just because I gained a few pounds doesn't mean I am not in normal standards and-'

But Tom couldn't hold it in any longer; he started laughing amused. 'Ha-ha, relax, relax; I think you are about to faint or something-you're too red. Actually I think there is warmth coming from you-' he said and extended his arms in the motion of putting them over a fireplace; she elbowed him on the rib. 'Ouch! Hey-what's with you? Stop abusing me already or I'll tell Dippet.'

'And _I_'ll tell Dumbledore.'

'…'

At the sound of his name the laugh died. 'Why, I love him, too.' she joked and now he pouted.

'And as I was saying…at least you don't get to freeze twice.'

'And as _**I**_ was saying if you thought I'd be coming to see your try-outs if they were on a different day you are gravely mistaken; now move.'

'Wh-you wouldn't?'

He sounded as annoyed by the very idea as he regarded it ridiculous; she shrugged amused. 'Who knows…?'

'So now you're here just for Julia then?' wow; he sounded stung. She didn't fail to notice that thus she decided to make him suffer for before a little longer.

'No of course; today I'm here for Jules, Michael and Hector.'

'Is that so? Then why are you walking with me?'

'What are you saying-you're the one who came here and-

'After _**you**_ asked me to!' he interjected almost furious but he was ignored.

-I just _love_ seeing you in that outfit.'

'Oh you-…**oh**. _Ah…_is that so?'

'Yes, I believe all green with a sting of silver looks very nice on you, but I would simply die for the day you will wear all blue.'

'Heh, in your dreams!'

'Ah, don't be mean.' she "complained" but in the end she gave him a huge toothless smile to match his cocky one. 'Good luck on the field Tommy-not that you're gonna need it, but I still feel I should wish you. So break a leg, alright?'

'I'll try my hardest not to make that expression a fact…thanks Cam'.'

'You're welcome; now go! I must catch up with the girls.'

* * *

As soon as they separated the memory seemed to go into a fast forward; Camellia ran to her friends, wished them luck, and sat at the benches while Tom went to his team, saluted the captain mounted the broom and flew off in moments. The girls tried out, Tom tried out, and **everyone** tried out in a matter of mere seconds!

'What's this?' Ron asked feeling a bit dizzy trying to keep track of everything despite the crazily fast rhythms.

'I guess some things aren't as important to him as others so he chooses which parts to include or remember in detail carefully.' Hermione replied simply; Ron loved when she did that –outsmart him- as much as he hated it.

'Yeah, it does make sense…' Harry admitted.

After three more seconds they stopped trying to follow everyone around and waited for the moment this swirl would stop turning; when it did they came before a very different site: it was dark now and the only people on that previously swamped quidditch field were just two groups of people: a bunch of Slytherins in quidditch uniforms and a bunch of Ravenclaws half of them in the gear and half in the robes.

They were lying on the grass surprisingly close and it appeared as if they were having a conversation. They drew closer, intrigued on what they might have been discussing as they noticed they weren't raising their voices or looked disrupted. They searched for Tom and Camellia and they found them: Tom had his feet sprawled on the grass, supporting himself on his palms, being the "borderline" of the Slytherin group. Camellia was opposite him, lying on her stomach and supporting her head with her hands; they were both at the "head" of each group of people, meaning the first to be opposite one another and so close-but an inch away.

* * *

'No, Dorian I completely disagree with that; just because the qualities of a curse are strong does not mean it should be used in all situations one needs strength. It has great ratifications and it can ultimately harm the caster.' the Ravenclaw girl they had seen carrying the quaffle earlier said looking directly at a Slytherin who was lying the opposite way of all of the rest on his "side".

They counted seven Slytherins and six Ravenclaws.

'Why do you say that? There has been no tangible proof of that claim even after the researchers started looking for it ten years ago.' the tall slender black-haired boy answered; he appeared to be the captain of the quidditch team and a seventh year.

'I agree with him on that one Rosy; there is no such evidence.' a Ravenclaw boy said; he was the second of the three wearing a quidditch uniform and he must have been a fifth-year.

'But there has been insinuations and even the founding fathers have mentioned it in their writing-and no. I don't mean only Helga Hufflepuff or Gordic Gryffindor. All of them.' Rosy countered hot-headedly; Jules, the third uniformed Ravenclaw nodded vigorously in agreement.

'Plus, breakthroughs don't happen overnight; do you have any idea how long it's taken that bloke to come up with his five laws and then have it patterned?' a Slytherin agreed –verbally- with Rose. She was a younger girl, barely third year with long blond hair that literally shone in the dark.

'They are five _principal exceptions_ of the **Elemental transfiguration law** and the "bloke" has a name Cassiopeia: **Gamp.**' Abraxas Malfoy –of what they made out- corrected almost indignant at his classmate's ignorance.

'Yes alright, that; you got my point though.'

'Well, that does actually make some sense; I believe Black is right.'

'Wait, guys, isn't she-Cassiopeia Black was Abraxas's wife wasn't she?' Ron noticed as soon as her name was mentioned.

'Who cares? I don't keep a track of Malfoy's family tree.' Harry replied absentmindedly.

'You're right Ron, she is; and you Harry are distantly related to the Malfoys you should know a bit about them.'

'Whatever…'

'People…it's getting late; shall we call it a night? We've been sitting on our arses for more than an hour now and I believe Tom and Camellia have either started communicating with Legilimency or they are just too bored of this conversation. Come on. Let's go.' Dorian, the captain said; everyone fell in pace almost immediately.

While everyone stood up and left, Tom and Camellia seemed to have frozen where they stood as they were motionless and stiff.

'Camellia, are you coming?' Julia asked when she realized her friend was not by her side but she was still lying on the grass.

'You go ahead and have fun for landing the spot in the team; I'll meet you in the dormitory, ok?'

'Heh-and comfort Michael who **didn't** get the spot.' she said chuckling; Camellia (and Tom as they noticed) laughed at that; yet Jules comment was underlined by her intent eyeing of Tom as he sat there beside her unmoving, too. She shot her friend a sly look.

'Yes please; give Hector my congratulations and Michael my sympathy.' she added still giggling but she made the girl realize she'd be staying there with Tom.

'Oh, give them mine, too.' Tom said cheery yet all of them knew he didn't mean it and judging by Camellia and her friend's face he didn't really like these people.

Jules got the message; she was undesirable by both. 'Will do-Michael will be thrilled I'm sure. Bye…' Smirking a last time, she left.

The Slytherins were surprisingly much more discreet as none made any comments or suggestions to Tom; they just left him behind careful not to make eye-contact with him on their departure. Only Abraxas whispered something to him before he got up –and they couldn't catch it- that made him smile…so it couldn't have been too good.

They were finally left alone in the exact same positions they were a minute ago, but now they were both gazing at the night sky; the silence was broken by none for over five minutes.

'Is this going to go on for long? Aren't they bored already, just looking blankly at the sky?'

'Humph! You never were a romantic one Ronald; how can you possibly understand the importance of watching the beauty of the night sky with the one you like since you've never actually done it?'

'Oh come on! Don't be mean now, I meant to tell you to do that some time love but-'

'Let me guess: you had to sleep because being an auror is so much tiring, innit?'

'Don't get sarcastic now 'Mione I would-'

'Shut up both of you! Even if nothing's happening between them it's still better than listening to the two of you fighting like that; so stop already!'

Hermione crossed her hands very upset –at both of them, actually- while Ron accepted his friend's request relieved.

'Why aren't they doing anything?' Ron asked indignant; patience was a quality he did not have.

'Who knows? Maybe they are both too tired.' Harry contributed; Hermione didn't speak though, still being mad about what happened even if she was the only one who could answer.

* * *

'Do you believe what Rosy and Cassiopeia said?' Tom asked out of the blue; he sounded calm but a bit unsure of himself to be making such a question. Yet the girl didn't answer, only shrugged; both she and Tom were still only looking at the sky so he didn't see her. Yet he didn't seem discouraged and continued. 'I don't really doubt that; everything has a price so it's only logical that using curses –especially like the unforgivable ones- will have some sort of ratification. I just don't see what's the big commotion is about; so what if your "soul" suffers? If it isn't an actual health problem, who cares?'

'I'd care for my soul…besides, it doesn't matter either I believe Cassiopeia or not but like Dorian said it's all about what you can and can't prove. So I want to be able to prove stuff like that when I grow up-that would be my perfect job.'

For the first time he looked at her; she, like sensing his eyes resting upon her, dropped her eyes to his level, too. 'What?' she asked half-laughing yet she was a bit red.

'You want to do what? And how exactly are you planning to be able to do something like that for a living? You want to be a researcher?'

'Not…exactly.'

'Because researchers don't get paid and you will need money you know.'

'I know…but I have already thought of something that's like that and it does pay-a lot of money, too.'

'Oh really? What would that be? An educated thieving career?' Did he just make a joke? Wow…

'He-he…no, you little evil wrong-doer; I have heard of a job at the ministry who has that in the job prescription…The unspeakables!'

'The department of mysteries!? Seriously?'

'Uh-huh; yes!'

She sounded triumphant at his surprise; she was always slacking, being too laid back for everything so she bet he would have never thought she had such high goals. She could almost read his mind as his expression changed from wonder to amazement to criticism. 'And how are you planning to do that? Have you taken a look at your grades recently?'

'Put a socket in it you snob! I know how to study for exams and I learn all I wish to know; I just don't feel like studying all the time like you and Jules do-I don't need it to get decent grades. And decent is fine; I don't have to be a maniac grade-perfectionist to know I'm good.'

'Oh so now I'm a snob and a maniac grade-perfectionist to know I'm good? And I thought you liked me in my quidditch uniform…'

'Wh-…that's totally unrelated; because I said I like how you look in that doesn't mean I have to like how you get sometimes…besides I don't hang around you just because you may be good looking-quite the contrary…! Just how shallow do you think I am?'

'Come on, I was only joking…'

'I know, you twit…' she snapped amused yet annoyed and just looked at him. But then, it hit her 'congratulations for getting into the team; forgot to tell you earlier…got lucky much?'

'Ah, thank you; but like you said in the morning, luck had nothing to do with it.'

'Stuck-up!'

They smiled at one another and then something unexpected happened; Tom stood up and gave his hand to Camellia. She looked at it wondered and sat up. 'What are you trying to do?'

'Get you up!'

'And why so suddenly? I mean, I want to stay out a little longer; no one will tell the professors we're still out so no need to rush.'

'Ah no, I wasn't thinking of going inside; rather…' his voice trailed off and bent down close to her; she extended her ear to hear him. The three onlookers leaned in to hear too. '…flying.'

Camellia became white immediately; Tom smirked. 'Me? Flying? Are you mad Tom? I'll never make it down…alive.' she gulped in the end, feeling cold sweat running down her temples. She was horrible at flying, even the trees surrounding the field knew that, and she was practically a disaster with the broom.

'Ha-ha; still can't forget that first lesson? Look, you had never even seen a flying broom before, it was normal you ended up hanging from the Ravenclaw tower and the broom left you.'

Both Harry and Ron, upon hearing that, they started laughing. 'Ha-ha; she was so horrible at flying? Why didn't you tell us honey?'

'And did that actually happen 'Mione?'

'…yes, it did.' Hermione admitted rather amused she was not the only one not handling flying well, finally speaking again.

Yet Camellia had become very red out of shame, their wands lighting their faces in a very peculiar way that it almost seemed she glowed in the dark. 'It was not normal-it was the broom's fault! Had it not been for later reassurance of our teacher I'd say someone had bewitched it to throw me off! It was going wherever it wished, higher and higher all around the grounds, speeding up when our professor tried to catch it, and it eventually threw me off at the highest tower! Had my robe **not** been caught by that pointy edge on the top of the Ravenclaw tower, now I might have had some sort of permanent damage!'

'Ha-ha, no, that's not true; the medicine here is much better than the muggles' medicine. Your brain would be fine.'

'Humph! Whatever; I promised to never ride a broom again especially after what happened **then**…'

The way she emphasized on that word and the gleeful smile on Tom's face were indicative enough to let them know that the "then" she'd said did not refer to the incident she had just described. 'I told you that was an innocent trick I played on the broom, the broom itself was fine.'

'It wouldn't land no matter what Tom; two hours it wouldn't obey and it took all the dangerous detours! I was clinging on to it for dear life! No; I am not riding one again ever!' she sounded absolute and crossed her hands decisively.

'…not even for me?' he urged; she only stuck her nose up higher. 'Like a little favour?' she turned her head the other way. 'Not even if I tell you we'll be riding together?'

To that she caved; her eyes darted to him. 'With you?'

'Why yes; I would never quite fathom making you fly on a broom on a night such as this without me behind you. You'd probably crush on a wall or never manage to get on the air on the first place.'

As she was about to snap something back to him, she held her tongue; he was right. So she only pouted. 'Alright; and you better be as good as you brag about being or you'll suffer a slow and painful death when we manage to get down.'

'Oh? Is that a threat? Don't worry: I'll either be the reason you had a wonderful night flight or I will just make sure you're dead before I reach the ground and you try to kill me.'

'Fair enough!' she condoned while she mounted the broom; he chuckled.

He mounted the broom but got behind her. 'Don't close your eyes when we'll be taking off, ok? You'll ruin the whole magic of flying; if you get scared…well, you won't; I'm right behind you, I won't let you fall. You trust me right?'

'Yeah…' she said naturally but that was the last drop of her cool; she started taking deep breaths and she looked straight ahead.

'Don't be so tense, you're shaking…now we'll be getting off so brace yourself; and **don't **close your eyes.' he reminded her again and after he saw the verification –a nod of her head- he kicked the ground.

And in a second he was already ten feet above the ground; surprisingly, so were the three onlookers-floating in the air next to them!

'Kyaaaah!' Camellia screamed and gripped Tom's hands harder; they were around her holding both the broom and her in place. Good thing he was, too because if he didn't they were sure she would have definitely fallen off; 'Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!' that one was from Hermione…she wasn't sure she liked this sensation of flying-or the fact she was flying at all! She had no broom, no magically altered objects that would help her fly or stop her fall and she was afraid she'd smash to the ground like a pumpkin.

Ron, realizing his wife's fear, he went to her and held her hand. 'Come, we'll fly together; it's better like this right?' he said and now he hugged her from behind, his strong arms wrapping around her small waist. She had to admit that this was much better this way; she didn't even remember what they were arguing about before.

Harry and Ron exchanged a dirty smile.

'You aren't closing your eyes are you?' Tom asked "strictly".

'No…but I am a little bit afraid…'

'I can feel that…I think my hands have started bleeding.'

'Eep! Sorry, it's because of my nails-I'm so sorry-AH!'

* * *

While she was apologizing she let go off of him but she forgot to hold on again; she almost fell when Tom managed to catch her by applying strength and fixating her in that position. Thankfully that didn't distract him from his navigation.

'Sorry…' she said again, now holding on to him just as tight as before.

'No problem; I knew stuff like this would happen if I took you with me so I was prepared. But look at the view; isn't it magnificent?'

He was right; they were flying at the grounds on a cold but calm night, with all the stars shining brightly on the black sky giving the otherworldly sense that a giant had brought them and pinned them there.

'It's majestic…' she agreed raptured in the sight; she gasped. 'Look at that-that is the constellation Boötes; see the Arcturus –the third brightest star of the night sky- is there! And that one over there is Sirius and that is Canopus! All three make the three brightest stars of the night sky. And there, next to Arcturus are Ursa Major and Minor, Arcas and Callisto.'

'Oh; you like your astronomy. Do you know who they were?'

'…I only know about the last two: they were mother and son who according to the myth were made stars by Zeus who after raping the virgin Callisto, he transformed her into a bear to save Callisto from his wife's cruelty. But she had gotten pregnant and after she gave birth to her son and lost him because of her transformation, she spent all of her life looking for him; when she found him, she was still a bear and as she went to hug him, the boy –fully grown now- tried to protect himself with his sword not recognising her. But because Zeus felt sad for them –the ever watchful prat- he turned them into stars and placed Arcturus next to them to keep them safe.'

'Very well; I'm impressed. And that one is Cassiopeia-the one my classmate got her name from.'

'Yeah, I know; all Blacks are named after stars and constellations right…?'

'True; do you remember what happened with that one?'

'Why don't **you** tell me?'

'…Cassiopeia was a queen, a very disrespectful one; thus she dared say she was more beautiful than the Nereids, daughters of Poseidon himself. Angry, the god took _**her**_ daughter, Andromeda, and chained her to a rock where a sea monster would come to take her. But Perseus, who had just killed medusa, said he would save her if they gave her as his wife; her parents agreed and he slew the monster. Problem was, the king Cepheus had already promised the daughter to his brother –her uncle- Phineus. So when the uncle claimed her Andromeda and the king sided with him; but Perseus didn't want to give in, thus he killed them! When the king and his wife Cassiopeia died, Poseidon placed them among the stars. But Cassiopeia was placed upside down due to her arrogance for claiming she was better looking than the daughters of Poseidon.'

'…the Greeks were crazy; how much more the ancient ones for making up such stories for the stars. Why did we name them after crazy Greek people again?'

'Because if you ever paid any attention to the part about the history of the names you'd know the stars were discovered by those _crazy ancient Greeks_ and they got to name them first.'

'Oh…'

'For what is worth I find their stories engaging but troubling; if Zeus had never married Hera then he wouldn't have to do all of those things to hide his indiscretions-he'd just do them. He was a fool to get married.'

'TOM!'

'Well, I suppose he could also just not look at other woman since he did get married…' he "corrected" in the end and gave her a half smile; she had turned around and was giving him a very mean look.

'Damn right he should!' she agreed –after she extorted it out of him- and turned around; he shook his head amused but let it go. 'Do you mind landing now? If we continue like that someone will eventually see us…'

'I don't see why-if they haven't spotted us already. Just be quiet and no one will notice anything.'

'"Be quiet"? I am not exactly shouting right no-AAAAAAW!' he dived without a warning 'AAAAAAAH!' he dived again; finally he came to a normal course again.

* * *

But the worst thing -for Harry and Ron- was that Hermione was shouting as well…

* * *

'You-you murderer! You'll give me a heart attack-stop doing that! You rascal-you… **danger**!'

'Ha-ha; I told you not to shout or you'll attract unwanted attention-that was why I said it.'

'Then you should stop di-AAAAAAAH! AH! KYAH! STOP, TOMMY-AAAH…!'

Her every scream was followed by one from Hermione, making the boys shut their ears –and Hermione screaming more as Ron let go of her momentarily- even though they were actually enjoying themselves. 'Pl-please, please…Tom please stop doing that I beg of you-AAAH!'

He eventually stopped doing that but he was still laughing; yet there was something wrong with the way he stopped. It was too sudden and too curt-even Camellia felt it. 'Ah…didn't I tell you not to shout too much? Now look at that: Dumbledore saw us…'

* * *

Yay; lame cliffhanger people! Hi-hi; what happened to them? What is the next memory? Find out on next chapter! By the way, I never quite mentioned this but this will not forever be an R rated story but it will become M later in the future-due to gore and all, you know how that is. And I would love to hear your feedback people; read and review!


	7. Peers are always a bad influence

**A/N**: So I'm back again; hello everyone! Care to know what happened after Dumbledore found them? Care to know what happened after that? Read on! And I'm afraid I will leave you with another cliffhanger on this one...that or the chapter would grow 10.000 words ^^

* * *

'Ah…didn't I tell you not to shout too much? Now look at that: Dumbledore saw us…'

He sounded fake-disappointed but Dumbledore **had **seen them: Tom gestured with his head where Dumbledore was standing, as he waited there; he was at the side of the field that was closer to the castle. He must have just arrived.

'Thank God he did…' she snapped him, making the indirect comment on his horrible flying on the last five minutes.

'Oh come on, you enjoyed this as much as I did.' Now they were flying towards Dumbledore.

'No…' she denied it.

'Yes you did; admit it.'

'…' she darted her eyes to his but then away again.

'Admit it…' he drawled amused and pinched her while landing; she gave him a mean look. But she still didn't say anything. 'Come on, I know you want to…'

She looked at him again; they dismounted the broom and walked to the Transfiguration professor. 'A bit…' she gave in a little in the end and gave him a mischievous smile. 'I do live for the rush after all.'

They both laughed at that; as soon as they reached Dumbledore they stopped though. Camellia they were sure she did it out of respect but if they knew Tom well, they knew he did it because he didn't want to account for anything to the professor.

'Why, hello Tom, miss Adams; what a wonderful night-perfect for a little stroll in the moonlight, don't you think?' Oh; he called Voldemort "Tom" but he called Camellia "Miss Adams". He must have been trying to psych him out.

'…Hello professor.' They saluted the same way but in different times clearly edgy; the younger Albus Dumbledore gave them a wide smile.

'How nice to see you catching some clouds dears-I was afraid, Miss Adams, your mishap the previous year had induced some sort of phobia. Good to see it is not so.' he continued amiably, making the students relax and forget they were caught outside long after curfew by making small talk. Amazing how Camellia took the bait easily but Tom kept staring at him nothing close to convinced.

'Ah, don't get me wrong sir; I'm still very frightened of flying. I only accepted to do it because Tom would be with me, handling everything.'

'Oh; how noble of him to help you overcome your phobia.' His words were just as amiable as before but there was something strange to it this once, almost like they held a deeper meaning. He looked piercingly at Tom –he gave him the famous Dumbledore-sees-right-through-you stare- and Tom felt challenged, rather than uncomfortable.

'I couldn't help it sir; she is very dear to me.' he replied the same way Dumbledore had: with a second layer.

'That is relieving to know…so tell me youngsters; have you enjoyed your night flight?'

'Very much so professor.'

'Good; because now it is time to get a little discouraged. Fifty points shall be reduced for staying out after curfew-and especially this late-…

'But professor-' they tried to complain, but he clearly wasn't finished.

-from each of you-

'Ooooh…'

-and you shall receive detention for three weeks.' His tone light and amiable as ever.

'Three weeks!?'

'Professor, don't you think it is a little extreme to be in detention for three whole weeks? I know what we did was wrong but-'

'Not consecutively Miss Adams, I am not unreasonable; three Saturday afternoons you shall come to my office and help me catalogue each and every piece of paper ever written for my subject ever since I became a teacher… but in the muggles' way.'

Dumbledore commenced walking back to the school and the two young ones ran behind him; Ron Harry and Hermione hurried after all of them.

'What!? But that will take…hours!' Tom continued protesting just as shocked; Dumbledore had a wicked smile on his lips because he had just come up with a wicked way to mess with Tom while practising his teacher duties: muggle way of sorting the paperwork. Great. And obviously it worked, too! 'Can't you at least give us the liberty to use magic for the older papers?'

'No; what kind of detention would it be if it weren't troubling and tiring? Come along now and stop protesting-both of you miss Adams…' he completed seeing the girl ready to speak; he was truly enjoying himself.

Oh boy, they had just been burnt well! The after-hours flight cost them many hours of detention and all of that just because Tom wanted to tease her about her phobia! But it really worth it-just because he got to see that scared face of hers and just seeing her being completely depended and surrendered to him, as he was in charge of her safe keeping. It felt good to have that sort of power over someone else and he liked it a bit too much for the others' wellbeing.

'Take comfort in the fact it was fun; it is fortunate to have such good friends. Don't you agree Tom?'

'Completely sir… only if assuming you were referring to me about being the good friend.'

'Ha. Ha. You are so. Funny.' she said emotionlessly and looked at him apathetically; Tom chuckled.

'Glad to see you two are getting along…' Dumbledore sounded almost surprised at his own observation. 'Very nice flying out there Tom; I always meant to tell you. You have amazing control.'

'Why thank you professor, I always have.'

* * *

'…talk about being full of yourself.' Ron snapped.

* * *

'Such humility…' Camellia joked but Tom shrugged; yet it was not Tom who spoke in his defence, but Dumbledore.

'If what one says it's true and believes it then there is no need for meaningless acts; at least he is sincere enough to let you know what he's thinking.'

'I…guess so.' Camellia commented surprised. Of all the people in the world, she didn't expect to hear Dumbledore defending Tom.

And to Tom's surprise –more like suspicion- he didn't too; but he was also annoyed that he and Dumbledore agreed on something and he stood up for him. Did that mean he was trying to establish a better relationship with him or was he just trying to be nice in order to trick him in the end? And would this farce continue after this night? He had to find out…

They finally reached the main entrance of the castle; they got in and Dumbledore turned to them. He held his hands out towards Tom and waited; he gave the young dark lord a suggestive look. Tom grew momentarily suspicious, until he realized Dumbledore was waiting for the broom Tom still had in his hands; he gave it to the professor hastily.

'Thank you Tom…now. I am afraid I can't follow you all the way to your dormitories but I **can** make sure you have gotten there or not. So be good and off to your beds.'

'Yes professor.' they choired and separated. ''Night Tom and thanks for everything.'

''Night Camellia…'

* * *

As soon as they separated and after Tom waited a little while to make sure Camellia was safely on her way –and he caught with the edge of his eye Dumbledore watching him watching her- he practically ran all the way to the dungeons –probably fearing another professor might had been patrolling the hallways and he was in no mood for more point-reduction.

When he got in the dormitory –the boys saw that the dungeons had the same décor and furnishing when they had gone to the dungeons to fish information out of Malfoy- he slowed his pace and directed his strut to the sofa that was occupied by two boys of the same age as him: Arnold Mulciber and Abraxas Malfoy.

When the two took heed of his presence –even before he reached the sofa- they turned to him immediately; they looked at him with something that was a mix of interest and mischief. Tom on the other hand looked rather self-satisfied. 'How did the flying go Tom? Had fun?' Mulciber was the first one to ask, his voice held suggestiveness.

'Malfoy, you can't keep your mouth shut, can you?' even though what he said might have sounded bitter or angry he said it rather amused; Malfoy gave him a smirk.

'I'm sorry _your highness_; I didn't realize you and the princess were trying to keep a low profile.' he joked but it was almost as if Tom took the tittle he gave him for real.

'You just came back Tom?' Dorian who was previously wearing the captain quidditch uniform said surprised, sitting in the armchair next to the sofa Tom was; he hadn't noticed earlier because there was a beautiful black-haired Slytherin girl in his lap, probably seventh-year as well who had been keeping him occupied.

'Yes but don't worry captain, I won't overdo it. This is the last time I stayed out so late.'

'No, I'm impressed; say, were you with Camellia all this time?'

Tom hesitated to reply, holding his tongue, in search of what the best answer should be; but before he could speak, Dorian laughed heartedly. 'Never mind, I just got my answer; youngsters these days, such Romeos.'

'Each year they start out younger; I remember we were sixteen years old when you asked me out, Dorian.' the girl in his lap commented equally amused yet somewhat judgemental. But that still didn't discourage Tom or his two classmates.

'Come on Chelsea dear, don't be too hard on them; after all, I had you in my eye ever since I was twelve. I was far too young then, but I knew we were just meant to be.'

'Ooh, sweetie…'

'Get a room you two.' a friend of the couple commented pleasantly, throwing a pillow to them but they didn't care; they started kissing again.

Dear god; that was the single sappiest thing he had ever heard, but he hid his displeasure behind that well-elaborated smile of his that showed nothing but agreement. Tom's classmates shook their heads obviously amused –not thinking the same thing Tom was for sure- but got back to their previous conversation.

'So how **did** the flying go?' Malfoy repeated Mulciber's question with the same wicked smirk from ten seconds ago; Tom shrugged "indifferent".

'What do you think?'

'Ha-ha; Tom you dog! You didn't do anything to the girl, did you?'

'Ah no, she's fine…'

'But you do realize she is a mudblood…' Malfoy pointed out in a hushed voice after Mulciber's laughter died out; Tom looked at him somewhat annoyed but he had to answer to that; if he was the renounced "mudblood hater" of his later days then he couldn't let this go unchecked.

He was a Slytherin anyway; blood-purity was their biggest concern and their tolerance was exhausted to half-bloods. If she was a muggle-born then Tom would definitely face problems with his choice of "flirt"/"friend" from his peers and now it was time to sort that out. Plus, if he wanted to keep up with both his outside façade with the world and make his "friends" believe completely in his blood-purity love then he had to work something out. Of course he had been able to find reasons to socialize with her without making it look suspicious to them but as he gotten older he had to come up with a definite answer so they would leave him alone. Malfoy was dangerously suspicious of the nature of their relationship though and he was amongst the very few of his peers that still dared to offer some opposition. So he had to be taken care of…

'Unless you think I do not know of her blood-status even if I spent a fairly bigger amount of time with her than the rest of the girls I know **and** you think I'm deaf –since you seem fit to remind me every two days- then yes I do; but in case you can't remember or haven't noticed up until now she is very bright and capable…even for a muggle-born. Thus it is preferable to keep her close as she is of valuable help both to me and you.'

'That is all there is to it…' Malfoy said but his sentence was coloured with doubt and a little question mark; suddenly Tom's eyes grew very dark.

The not so subtle change became easily percepted by both of the boys talking with him; they seemed a bit taken aback –Mulciber definitely afraid. 'Are you trying to tell me I made a wrong choice of my approaching her?'

'…well, I don't know; you seem too close-everyone actually thinks you are trying to get her to be your girlfriend…' Malfoy was discouraged but not as weak-willed as his other friend so he kept on protesting.

But he soon caved as Tom went completely emotionless but his eyes even darker. 'Have I ever made a wrong choice, Abraxas?'

'No Tom…you are right; forgive me for questioning you.'

He was angry…no, lord Voldemort was furious! And considering he was barely 14 years old it made them feel all the more crept out; he actually looked like he was capable of hurting someone just because he was angry and preferably that someone would be Abraxas Malfoy.

And how could he not be completely mad at his classmate, who was under the illusion he was actually his friend –along with the rest of his classmates- that he had dared to second guess his technique? It wasn't like Tom was lying; the sole reason he cared to socialize with this girl, with this muggle-born…err, mudblood, was because she was smart, had many potential that has already showed more than once –even if she didn't care for "perfect grades" like he does (but she should)- and quite frankly she had ambition.

She wanted to work for the ministry and that was too much ambition for a thirteen year old and given he never aspired for that –but he would like to have an insider there- she would be immensely valuable for his future plans. So her ambition would turn out to be an advantage for him; besides, ambition drives a person –man or woman, he wouldn't start discriminating now- and makes them overlook otherwise _terrible_ things. So it would be an asset to his team and she would offer great help…and that was all there was to it. He didn't care especially for the girl, no.

Well, he did care for the girl but not especially for the girl and even if he didn't wish her harm he wouldn't go out of his way to help her. And maybe if something happened to her or was about to happen in front of him he **would** help her –like he did when they were on the broom- but that didn't mean he had some sort of soft spot for her; even if she was the only mudblood he thought was worthwhile…

Um, what was his point again? Oh yes, he was very mad at Abraxas who dared to doubt his way of approaching this girl or the fact he was all but business with her. 'Never mind; I know your main concern is this house's blood-purity so we do not have an argument there. Now let's go to sleep, shall we?'

'Yeah, you are right; let's hit the sack…' Mulciber agreed immediately; he seemed as if he didn't want to be present at the moment…and quite frankly who could blame him?

Hermione Ron and Harry were much older than the Tom before them but he sounded convincing enough and somewhat scary to them-not scary enough to scare them but scary enough to make them suspicious. Just as Tom followed his two classmates who stood up and headed for the boys' dormitory the memory froze again-like the first time they had dived into the pensive.

* * *

But this once nothing fast-forwarded; this once everything changed radically and instead of the three men standing in the middle of the Slytherin dormitory, they found themselves…in Hogsmeade.

'Wait; how did this happen? This is another memory altogether, isn't it? And wait-I want to comment on what I saw before I forget it-don't just throw us in a different memory!'

Harry realized all that was wrong with this setting: from Hogwarts to Hogsmeat, obviously another season –as it was too snowy yet too sunny to be the same time period as the quidditch try-outs they witnessed earlier- and they didn't get to have a brief conversation about what they had just seen. Definitely the previous recollection showed a great deal of the quality of their relationship but like Hermione had said the transitional year was the fourth…and they took her word for it because she had actually taken the time to read it.

'What-he's right! Hey, come on 'Mione give us a break, what d'you do?'

'We have to hurry; McGonagall may have given us her office and her permission but she is the headmistress so we must hurry. Besides, d'you have any idea how long we've been in here?'

Suddenly the boys stopped to think; she was right, they had lost completely the track of time. With all these memories and the very weird events they depicted they forgot that inside the pensive the time was real, meaning as long as you've spent in the pensive you have been absent just as long from the real world. And given they had already seen three and now where going to four memories then they must have been in there for about…two and a half hours. 'Don't bother calculating, I have set up a timer prior to coming to get you; I know you always get too caught up in events like these so I figured at least one of us should be the responsible one. Go on, look at it.'

Hermione gestured with a curt nod of her head to a floating timer that appeared to be counting each passing second; it said 03:37:21, 22, 23… Three hours and almost forty minutes!? How could they have lost track of time like that?

'You mean we've been here almost four hours!?' Ron exclaimed shocked as soon as he laid his eyes upon the magically conjured timer; Hermione nodded.

'Time _**flies**_!' Harry emphasized himself and looked around surprised.

'Yes, which is why this is the last memory we're seeing today; and like I said, tomorrow we'll be watching fifth year and older memories so brace yourselves! Now come on; focus on this and as soon as we leave McGonagall's office we'll talk about everything, OK?'

'Alright Hermione…' the boys chorused in agreement; they knew there was no use arguing with Hermione for as far as time management was concerned then she was the best. Plus she was always right thus… what was the point?

They looked all around them, this once trying to spot Tom or Camellia somewhere near them or at the distance; but a good look around and they realized they were dangerously close to the Shrieking Shack. Oh wait; if the Shrieking Shack got its name from Lupin who wasn't even born at that time then it was just a Shack. And truth be told, now that they watched it better it wasn't all that worn out, it almost looked decent enough for an old person to be living inside it.

'Hey look; the Shrieking Shack is almost new at this time and date!' Ron commented delightfully, pointing towards it; it didn't even have the wire-netting it did when **they** had first gone there.

'And technically this isn't the Shrieking Shack yet-it's just another old building. It even looks habitable!'

'And maybe if you two boys stopped chatting then we might as well get to hear how the people in these days used to call it because Tom and his gang are right over there! Let's follow them!'

The two shut it immediately, turned where Hermione was pointing and ran over there in seconds; good thing all that snow didn't hinder their walking –well, running- because they would have difficulty caught up with them (and Hermione would definitely trip on her feet at least twice).

When they reached him, they saw Tom was in the presence of Abraxas Malfoy, Arnold Mulciber, Mark Rosier, Ernest Avery, Stewart Lestrange and Jonas Nott…the first men to ever join the death eaters group with Tom as their leader of course.

Tom Malfoy and Mulciber that they had just seen in the previous memory now looked a bit older; had they not seen their third-year counterparts a moment ago, the contrast wouldn't be so big but they had. And they could see that they had grown a full year at least and they all looked taller, bigger and generally more men-like. It was amazing the difference there was between just one year, but it was there; Tom's hair were the same but it was obvious he had made an effort to keep them the way they were, while Malfoy's had grown longer. The rest were pretty much the same and only three people were obviously different from one another: Tom, Abraxas and Stewart.

They were wearing non-school robes, thick and very expensive-looking most of them in black. Also, they had their hands and ears covered thus protected from the cold and they had formed some sort of circle. They were talking briskly about -surprisingly- unrelated matters to blood-heritage/purity or even supremacy and they were merely being enthusiastic about quidditch and girls…_boys' talk_, Hermione concluded half-amused half-indignant. It appeared Rosier was telling some sort of story because everyone was watching him speak.

'So there I was, ready to catch the snitch -battling with that Gryffindor idiot over it- and as I was flying, about to outrun him before I knew it…a bludger hits me on the head!'

'Ow…' his crowd went at the unsatisfying end; so the Slytherin had probably lost the certain match against Gryffindor. Heh, the prats deserved it anyway!

But from what they saw, Tom was the only one who didn't take part in the disappointed cry in the end as he remained silent, merely looking displeased at the sound of the narration-probably remembering the game and they bet he hated to lose no matter what.

'Yes; that Gryffindor beater was very sharp…he caught you with the edge of his eye and immediately sent it on you; too bad I was trying to help the rest of the team and didn't get to help you, too.' Tom said annoyed; wow. That loss must have caused him to lose more face than he intended because he sounded very bitter and angry; all the boys around him appeared to be shrinking if only a little.

'But thank God we won the match after all; I told them it was good to keep at least a two hundred points difference just in case.'

'You mean you knew you'd get a bludger on the head or was it that you were just certain you wouldn't catch the snitch?' Malfoy snapped wickedly, falling in pace with Tom's mood. Of course it wasn't just that; Abraxas was a Malfoy-all Malfoys were prats and they never let anyone live anything down especially if it messed with their dorm's pride. Maybe him being such a git was the reason he seemed to be Tom's right hand (he actually sat at his right side while Lestrange on his left and they were certain that he would never allow someone else stand by him if he didn't really think he was worth it).

'Come on Malfoy, cut him some slack; he isn't even the regular seeker of the team-he only got to be one because Greengrass couldn't play.' Lestrange commented "supporting" Rosier even though -in fact- his suggestiveness and what he had said about him being the back-up was just as offending.

'But we did win; all we care for are results after all so it doesn't matter if he caught it or not-he did warn them about it and he was right so all is good.' Tom interjected; he had his fill of seeing Rosier being bashed obviously because everyone seized talking about it in an instant.

Tom looked satisfied and continued: 'Won't we go to that abandoned shack now?'

Everyone but Avery, who seemed to enjoy the thought, became a little whiter. 'Or are you _too_ scared?' they all gulped audibly but nodded "no" in a very stubborn but not very convincing way. 'I thought I saw a couple of girls going in there; don't tell me a bunch of guys are afraid?'

'Of course we are not scared! Come on you chickens, let's go!' Avery protested hotly and nudged the rest; the boys seemed to "wake up" a little at that, they even looked offended by Tom's previous comment about the girls so they eventually looked decided.

'Of course; I'm definitely going. I don't know about the rest but-'

'We're coming you twit; you aren't the only one who can fire a decent spell should the occasion arise and we find ourselves in trouble, Malfoy.' Lestrange snapped kind of angry; he realized they were trying to make them look like idiots and cowards in front of Tom, their ring leader apparently, so he got angry with Malfoy.

'Great; then let's get going!'

Under Tom's indirect command they all mobilized simultaneously; they were closer to the shrieking shack than the three thought –without the wire netting the distance looked very weird and they couldn't accurately calculate- so the distance to be covered was much smaller.

'I saw a couple of mudbloods going in there, too some time ago; what say you we scare them a little? Not anything extravagant just a couple of stupefying curses. Should anyone ask why, we had problems because they did something to us!'

* * *

'You f*cking a prat!' Ron and Harry swore at the same time; Hermione smiled. Even if they couldn't be heard they just had to stick up for her and she loved them for it; she didn't even tell them not to swear though because she enjoyed it.

* * *

It was Nott who had suggested that and he even looked too thrilled with the idea-at least more than he was supposed to; not that harming a human being was any reason to be happy about but even for a sadistic pig this was too much.

'Nott, we shouldn't cover up for it but we must not be detected at all and it will be rather difficult to get away with this as we've been standing here for a long time and many people saw us…' Tom said teacher-like and everyone was watching him eager to learn from him; the three were almost revolted at his way of thinking. 'But this is too tempting to pass up without even trying first.'

'What do you have in mind boss?' Mulciber asked excited.

'Alright; this is how it will play out: we make sure the ones attacked see our faces **and** see us leave the shack, too. Then, when we have distanced ourselves enough, half of us will return and then make sure we have a little fun with them.'

'You are a genius!' Avery exclaimed.

'But who will be accompanying you the second time?' Lestrange asked immediately; Tom smirked.

'You and Malfoy definitely; and the last spot goes to Nott who had the idea so that's it. Now come on, let's go see who will be keeping company.'

They laughed –too darkly for their age- and got a move on; they reached the shack in a couple of minutes and lurked outside for a while; they eavesdropped carefully before going inside, ears extended hands aiding their effort, and they waited to catch voices for a while.

'Are you sure there were only a couple of people and only mudbloods? I hear at least three different voices.' Lestrange said still trying hard to hear.

'From my side I get two additional ones.' Avery noticed.

'Five people? That's too much.' Malfoy protested. 'Even if they are all of them mudbloods going against five different people with no reason it's too much and if we get caught we will have no reason to why we attacked. Not to mention the immediate suspects shall be us.'

'Don't be such a coward Malfoy; we are more than capable of taking them on –unless they are seventh years- and we will not be caught. Tom's plan is flawless and I'm guessing when we come back for the "fun" we'll be wearing masks.' Nott defended his idea; but Rosier agreed with Malfoy by showing his displeasure with Nott's opinion.

'If you do not wish to join us Abraxas I'm sure Mulciber will be more than willing to take your place.'

'Yes, I am!'

'Don't be so eager Arnold, I didn't say I back out-I merely pointed out some risks so we can find a way to overcome them.' Malfoy snubbed annoyed. The way Tom was manipulating him and the rest were trying to discredit him it made him very angry; Tom on the other hand loved teasing and challenging his followers –as they were already calling him boss.

'Don't worry; that is the very reason we will be getting in here-see what's going on and how many people there are in there. Now come on already, let's get in.' Tom gave his final word; they got in the shack without further ado.

'I don't like getting into that building again…last time I did, my leg was half-eaten.'

'Nonsense Ron; that was how we found Sirius, you ought to be proud.' Hermione snapped when she saw Harry going a bit dark and gloomy and inwardly cursed her husband's insensitivity.

'Besides, it was only a little bite…' Harry continued reminiscing but that didn't last too long; the "gang" walked in, first floor, and crept around while trying to find the owners of the voices they had heard previously…or the voices alone for that matter as suddenly everything was silent. But then they heard it!

* * *

'_You know this is where most couples come when they have nowhere else to go; all of Hogwarts and Hogsmeat's illegitimate couples end up in here, second floor._'

* * *

It was a deep male voice that sounded heavier than its age and it came off as smug and suggestive; obviously the boy was taking to someone else, probably a girl. And from what the boys had said previously there were at least two more people with him.

'That voice sounds suspiciously familiar…' Tom said, foreshadowing written all over his tone.

* * *

'_I believe you; didn't you see those two sixth year Gryffindors who ran outside?_'

'_Oh right; I remember those. The boy looked a bit disrupted, disoriented if you catch my drift…_'

'_Ha-ha…!_'

* * *

'Those sound familiar, too…' he continued now a bit anxious; the rest of his gang was standing behind him but Harry Ron and Hermione who stood right in front of him saw his face had become distorted with worry and anticipation. Why was he so edgy though? Those voices he had heard were two female and then they altogether laughed but the first female voice -as the golden trio thought harder- was familiar even to them! They were sure it wasn't Camellia's -she had a deeper voice, which was weird for a girl- yet it did sound familiar.

But then they heard some heavy and some light footsteps descending the stairs, at least a pair of footsteps; then there was another pair of them. The voices of the people were too loud and incomprehensible as they all talked at the same time creating a buzz instead of a conversation.

'Who are they?' Avery whispered impatient but they all -but Voldemort- put a finger in front of their mouths and signalled "shush" to him.

'We'll find out in a second, don't be like that.' Lestrange whispered back and they formed a little circle around and behind Tom, looking at the same direction: the stairs that connected the two floors.

'Wands away gentlemen, don't forget that this but reckon.' Tom instructed as the footsteps were getting louder and louder (yet very slow) until they could all see two pairs of feet coming down the staircase; two additional pairs of feet were right behind them.

When their faces were finally revealed Tom was left thunderstruck; the people who were descending the stairs looked surprised –but not as much as Tom certainly- but didn't stop until they were all down.

Then the three realized why the girl's voice sounded familiar: it belonged to the girl that descended the stairs first and she was Julia, Camellia's –quite possibly- best friend. The rest three they didn't recognize, though: the boy with whom Julia had descended was very tall, taller than Tom that he was considered tall to begin with, pale but with an athletic built –almost muscular- and he had green eyes and dirty blond hair. The other two at the back were boy and girl but they must have been twins as they were identical! They had the same face, same colours even -raven black hair and baby blue eyes- and they were slender and average-heighted-the surprising fact was that the girl was actually taller.

None of them was wearing their school-robes too only they were a harmony of different colours: the blond boy was wearing an extravagant hazel coat that covered all of him and Jules was wearing a red long robe with matching gloves and hat. The twins were wearing different style robes but in the same bright purple colour-a most unusual colour.

* * *

'Tom? Wow; fancy meeting you here.' Julia said pleasantly, airing herself with her gloved hand after she took off her hat.

'Hey Tom.' the male twin saluted.

'Hello boys!' the female twin said to all of them after winking.

But the boy that came down first with Julie didn't utter a word of "hello".

'Julie.' Tom saluted and gave a small bow of his head; as soon as he did that everyone behind him followed suit. 'Jean, Joan…' he gave two more bows to the twins –the rest always following his example- but then he stopped. 'Michael…' he said in the end, not even bothering to sound friendly or even amiable; instead, his voice was just as venomous as a snake's bite.

* * *

'Did he say Michael?' Harry noticed; Hermione nodded.

'The same Michael that tried out for the quidditch team last year and didn't make it?' Ron prompted; Hermione nodded again. 'Well, I can say they definitely **don't** get along-look how they are looking at one another. Worse than the way Malfoy always looked down on me-or you-or Hermione for that matter!'

Hermione smirked; 'You haven't seen the half of it.'

* * *

And cut! Oh, I so so wish Rowling had taken the time to develop Tom's character a bit more and actually make him a more round-personality; all of his motives and even his behaviour/actions were justified very one-sidedly. So I hope the way I'm writing this, especially in later chapters as now it is too early, will show another side of himself one that undoubtedly everyone has! And I don't believe he was a psychopath -they say psychopaths don't feel anything- but he could be quite angry, excited, hateful and even happy at moments...even if not for the reasons most people get happy. So I guess I want to depict him fully; I hope you'll find it plausible. Read and review please!


	8. Inside the shack

**A/N**: Here is the next chapter! ...I am not stalling with finishing these memories, I just have to do it right -in case anyone is wondering. So please enjoy! Oh, I do not own Harry Potter and its characters, only the plot related to Camellia and anything pertinent to her. ..._I always forget those damn disclaimers..._

By the way, this is revised!

* * *

'Did he say Michael?' Harry noticed; Hermione nodded.

'The same Michael that tried out for the quidditch team last year and didn't make it?' Ron prompted; Hermione nodded again. 'Well, I can say they definitely **don't **get along-look how they are looking at one another. Worse than the way Malfoy always looked down on me-or you-or Hermione for that matter!'

Hermione smirked; 'You haven't seen the half of it.' she warned them rather amused but nudged them to pay attention to the conversation nonetheless.

* * *

'Quite strange meeting you indeed; how come you're all here?' Tom asked after everyone had saluted one another-Michael was everyone's least favourite as he only gave curt head gestures and received the same.

'Oh we thought this would be a nice place to visit; we never dared to do so last year because _your cute Slytherin classmate _always feared it…' Jean, the male twin, said giving his sister a one-arm hug; she rolled her eyes.

'Yes but what of it? We did now and it wasn't that much of a big deal anyway; I really can't see the attraction of this place-unless you are an illegitimate couple of course…which brings us to the question why are _you_ here, boys?' Joan asked wickedly; Tom –who had already taken the floor and was handling all answers- shrugged absentmindedly.

'We figured it would be adventurous to come here…but seeing it is nothing but an old building, we are quite disappointed.'

'Heart-breaking.' Michael sneered; Tom shot him a nasty look and Julie rolled her eyes while the twins laughed.

'Still not getting along you two, I see.' Jean said pleasantly.

'Not quite, yes; but if Julie is here' Tom nodded to Julie 'and _you_'re here' he nodded curtly to Michael 'then…Camellia must be around here somewhere, too. Where is she?'

As soon as that question was made Michael looked like he had swollen something very sour; what was Tom's business with her anyway? If all they did was fight when they were together then why did he bother looking for her on the first place? And why did she bother with him, too? It drove him mad that his friend was so interested in this annoying guy…

'Oh; she's upstairs.' Julie informed but Joan interrupted her.

'She was also looking at something when we left and she wouldn't say a word, it was a bit weird.'

'Actually she's been staring at something ever since we got upstairs twenty minutes ago and she wouldn't speak no matter what so I can safely say it was **very** weird.' Jean corrected his sister. 'Wait-I bet she's heard you already; if you call for her I'm sure she'll come down. We told her we'll be leaving shortly anyway…'

'**Camellia?** **Camellia, come on down already**!' Julie shouted; in cue, Camellia's footsteps were heard going all round the room upstairs and then approaching the staircase. Soon enough her black ballerina shoes were sighted accompanied by her deep blue robes' edges.

* * *

'Oh there she is; you finally decided to get yourself out of there? You were starting to scare us love.' Michael told her tauntingly yet there was a cheerier trait in his voice; but now it was Tom's turn to look highly displeased.

He could easily say he hated Michael; he was rich, a pureblood –the last male of his line, too- in short all that Tom would never be…**and** he was also a straight prat, a git, a nuisance. He was always loitering around Camellia, befriending her, being "sweet" and "nice" in a very slimy way. And he hated him for that; he just couldn't see what Camellia saw in this person and hang around him so much. She wasn't one to like someone because of their blood-status. Well, he was a Ravenclaw and a fourth year like her, but still…

'Sorry, I was just watching-**AH**!'

A crumpling sound was heard and right after it Camellia was completely immobilized.

'Camellia?'/'Cam'?' her friends exclaimed worried/Tom asked wondered as to what she did again and what sort of mess she found herself into this once.

'Ah, ah, ouch…Ow…Oh-h-hi Tom-…ah!'

She supported herself on the banisters –that were about to collapse- and looked at her foot; she appeared to be in pain.

'What happened?' they asked altogether this once-even Tom's gang.

'Ow…' she drawled. 'My foot-it got stuck; a stair broke and my feet got trapped in the broken wood-tch! It hurts…'

'For the love of Merlin Cam' you really are a disaster; four people walked on it previously and you're the only one who managed to do something like that to the step.' Tom said worn out but went to her nonetheless to help her free her foot; she protested though.

'I can take care of myself-OW, I have a wand, too you know so stay away.'

'And how can you say that-can't you see she's hurt? And _I_'ll help her, not **you**.' Michael snubbed him and tried to catch up.

* * *

Michael was surely fast; before they knew it he'd found himself next to Tom, shouldering him to pass first, trying to reach Camellia. The "lady in distress" however had already taken her wand out and she had muttered a spell; it didn't work though. 'I said stay away from me and that goes for both of you-just because I'm a woman I'm not useless!'

* * *

'_This will not end well…_' Jean whispered to everyone close to him and they all agreed while watching; this was too much fun for anyone to interrupt-or prevent for that matter.

* * *

As Tom and Michael were too busy fighting with one another either with shoulder-hits or elbow-thrusts or glaring contests, she did a wordless spell and set her foot free! 'Uh-huh! Finally!' she exclaimed triumphant and got her foot out of the hole she had reduced; but she pulled her leg too fast and she lost her balance.

* * *

'_Oh no…_' the ones watching exclaimed in a hushed voice; Jules looked away because she knew what was about to happen.

* * *

She had made the mistake of letting the banisters go, too so in a matter of seconds she had found herself struggling to keep steady and up but it was too late. '**Kyah**!' she screamed-finally attracting the attention of the two quarrelling boys; she fell forward and before anyone realized what was happening she had taken Tom and Michael down with her.

Like a huge snowball -only it consisted of people- the three of them rolled down the staircase, tangled together like a mass, and eventually stopped after the steps were over.

'_**Ha-ha-ha-ha**_!'

All the spectators –including Ron, Harry and Hermione- burst out in a strong resounding laugh –that shook the very foundations of the shack- as the three intermingled students struggled to get off of one another.

* * *

'Ouch Tom; you're crushing my chest! And one of you is stepping on my injured leg-ow ow ow!'

'Oh sorry hun, that's me!' Michael apologized while withdrawing his foot from hers and finally he managed to stand up, being the top one.

When he stood fully up and away from both to give then room to stand, too he noticed Tom was not being as fast as he was at getting off of her. 'Riddle, get **up**!'

'She's trapped my robes with her feet so if I stand I'll fall back down again; but maybe she enjoys this-dunno' he turned to her 'you seem to be rather slow in taking your shoes off.'

He sounded arrogant and he derived great pleasure from all this; that annoying detestable boy was getting very upset the pair of them were in such a "misunderstandable*" position and that of course only helped his mood pick up a little-because he was still furious that Michael dared to race with him and then about falling off the stairs.

'Would you shut up-my leg hurts it's not easy! And you could at least get your mug away from my face-personal space Tom!'

He was too close, almost lying over her and his face was but an inch away- his nose would be touching hers had he not been taller; but if Tom had to be completely honest with himself he secretly enjoyed this because he could see every little spasm of her mouth, every expression of her face, even feel her shudder by his breath. And that was very ego-boosting…

It was so amusing to see her struggling to get her shoes off that he deliberately supported all his weight on his slightly bended knees in order to make it harder for her.

But Michael was no simpleton –apparently- because he realized what was happening and hurried to get her shoes off her feet and untangle his robes. When he managed to do it, he immediately hit Tom on the back 'You can get off of her now; her shoes are off and your robes are fine.'

'Maybe she doesn't want me to, how do you know?'

'…' Camellia glared at him and he chuckled; even if her look was murderous her cheeks were a deep rosy shade.

'OK, OK, I got it.'

He stood up –not hastily at all- and helped her get on her feet, too; Michael was very mad and proof of that were the daggers he sent to Tom when he helped her up. 'But can you be any clumsier? You got your foot stuck in the bloody-stair and dragged us all three down!'

'Ha-ha; seriously Camellia he's right!' Jean joked; but Tom's gang took the liberty of making fun of her, too.

'Tom, are you sure to leave your transfiguration homework with her for proof-reading? I'm surprised how she hasn't gotten you a "below average" by now.' Malfoy snapped amused by her misfortune; he always feared this girl was a very bad influence to his friend and this was a great moment for retaliation…of some sort.

Many laughed, even Joan and Jules did.

'Yeah; can you actually tell a transfiguration spell from an altering one?' Nott asked just as smug as his other "friend" but this once no one laughed because Camellia took it too personally.

Sure Malfoy was a prat but he had the grades and the guts to say something like that; besides, it was not all that insulting-even funny maybe. But what Nott had just said was very specific, very personal and very pointed; she would hear of it no longer.

She gave a little smirk and that was all Nott saw; in a matter of seconds, Camellia had drawn her wand, disarmed Nott and turned him into a snake!

'Eep!' Julie screamed –she was very scared of snakes and she was cowering behind Michael.

They rest gave another strong laugh and only Avery seemed to be shocked by her offensive way of dealing with him. 'And **that** is why I proof-read his transfiguration essays you **prat**' with another wordless spell she shot him up in the air with more laughs 'try questioning me **again**' she shot him in the air once more-Michael was about to die from laughter 'and I might as well make the change permanent you** git**.'

She shot him one last time in the air, further away from Julie as they noticed, but this once Tom got in the way. She stopped and looked at him straight in the eyes, giving him a very unnerving smile; he wasn't discouraged though. 'Please put Nott down and in his original state; sure it is fun watching you show off for once but this is getting close to abuse.' he reasoned calmly yet with a hint of his Irish humour somewhere in there; Camellia considered for a moment.

'You're right I guess… fine.' she said half-heartedly.

She never was the revengeful type but when she got mad at something she would strike with all her might; the fact she did that to him left her a little surprised with herself, too –she didn't even know she could that good- and when she was over the shock she decided to comply. With a flick of her wand, as soon as Tom was out of the way, Nott turned into the human he was again; he was breathing heavily and clutching his chest tightly. 'You-you crazy wench! You almost gave me a heart-attack you filthy mudblood-!'

* * *

Nott didn't get to finish his sentence-a strong right hook had prevented and it was none other's than…Michael! Everyone was rendered speechless for that moment; they were shocked to see Michael out of all people hitting someone-and without his wand.

'Don't you ever say something like that to her again, do you hear me!' he had caught Nott and was shaking him by the collar of his robes. 'Pure blood, filthy blood-there is no such thing! And apparently she is so much better than you that the only way you can insult her is by calling her something so stupid like that!' he let him fall on the floor and turned to Tom with a face distorted by rage. 'Learn to control your "subjects" Tom because they are speaking way out of turn to your **friend**-if you consider her as such that is!'

Obviously he was to be considered a "blood-traitor" because he was taking Camellia's side and he didn't do it just because it was Camellia who was the muggle-born. He really hated idiotic discriminations like that and the only reason he was jealous of Tom was because he got to be her friend even if his friends were muggle-haters.

But Michael was in Tom's face, pointing and shoving him with his index and they could all see that lord Voldemort was getting angry with his disrespectful behaviour. 'If you don't stop that right about now, you will be missing that finger in a little while; and maybe you're the one who should be kept on a leash-didn't your master bring it today, **dog**?' he said and when he said "master" he looked at Camellia.

She, even if her leg was bleeding -which they figured also caused pain- wasted no time; she got between Tom and Michael and separated them. 'First of all, Tom didn't do anything so stop poking him; secondly, Michael only defended me from your very rude friend Tom so don't talk to him like that; thirdly, I want no one to speak for me Michael so there was no need for you to do something so unnecessary and fourthly…Revulso!'

Nott was knocked over; everyone widened their eyes surprised. 'Is there anyone else of your pure-blood loving gits who would like to call me like that? Look I don't particularly take it as an insult "mudblood" and all-it's just a state of mind- but he is just so very annoying, you know? Anyway shall we go now friends?'

She didn't know what had gotten into her; she never was one to attack so effortlessly like that especially because someone called her a name –no matter what that was- but she felt extra bitchy today for one reason and one reason alone: period. Her nerves were a mess and her stomach was already hurting her so she couldn't stand anyone else trying to ruin her mood. Good thing no one expected her to do that, too or else she'd gotten cursed times four!

Yet Tom looked oddly proud and satisfied at her new-found malice; those of his "friends" who noticed it looked at him bewildered but said nothing altogether. 'And Tom, do remember we have to study together tonight around eight, will you? That transfiguration and potions essays are still unfinished.'

* * *

Once more they acted as if nothing had happened; why-what was wrong with both of them? How could they be fighting each other or each other's friends and yet a minute later shrug it off as it never even occurred? What was more their friends didn't even find it weird something like that had just happened and Harry Ron and Hermione were the only ones looking at them like a goldfish out of its water.

'I do, don't worry; but that leg needs to be fixed before you leave here.'

'It'll be alright-I'll put it right later.'

'Don't be stupid; come on. Sit there.'

'No really-it's fine, I can-'

'**Sit**!'

'Alright!'

Everyone jumped up a little by the imperativeness of his voice but she merely obeyed; Michael though looked at him the wrong way –he would never imagine speaking to a woman like that- but Tom didn't give any mind to it; he sat her on a previously dusted sofa –he cleaned it with a spell- and then took her foot in his hands. She winced. They all gathered around them.

'Sorry.' he blurted out but didn't really sound remorseful. But then –surprisingly- he continued with his apology. 'I mean for Nott; he can be such a prat sometimes.' He was barely heard-the rest didn't even realize he was talking because his back was turned.

'He is not your responsibility don't think about it.' she replied in the same hushed voice but apparently that was not enough for him.

'No your friend is right; he spoke badly of you and he was way out of line. He will get what he deserves.'

'What are you talking about-he already did, didn't he?'

What he had just said worried her; what did he mean? She had already turned him into a snake and blasted him all the way back, what else could he possibly deserve? Yet she had a gut-feeling that Tom was not kidding or just speaking and she didn't like that. She didn't like that at all. Lately there was something strange with him-the way he acted and the way he talked-but not to her… to everybody else. She could feel there was something going on and she knew those "friends" of his were to blame. She knew they planted all sorts of thoughts into his head and soon enough he'd be just like them.

But she didn't let that show; she reverted to her voice to its original volume and spoke up. 'Now please get this up and running-I want to go to that amazing store with the candies.'

He smirked; she had just given him the perfect fuel for teasing her-he always loved making fun of her weight and lately it had been going up and down quite a lot. 'What-and gain all the weight you lost back? You still need to lose a couple of pounds not-ouch!' she hit him on the head, like she had on that previous memory but this once he retaliated: he twisted her leg a little where it was injured.

'**UGH**-Tom you **git**!'

'What did you do to her?'

Tom rolled his eyes; could that pestering guy get even more annoying? Obviously he could because he just did. But Tom preferred not to give him any more reason to fawn over them so he casted the spell: 'Episkey!'

As soon as he'd said that, the few splinters in her leg got out all on their own, and the wound healed itself immediately; even the pain caused from Tom was gone. 'See?'

'Wow; this is very handy!' Jules exclaimed.

'I never said you wouldn't be able to do it…' Camellia said, not wanting to admit she was wrong, while moving her foot up and down to make sure it was really healed; no pain came thus his spell must have been effective. She stood up and walked normally again to the exit; she gestured for everyone to follow her. 'Thanks Tom.'

'…Goodbye and have a nice day…' he said in return.

'Bye Tom.' Jules and Jean said in unison.

'See you in the dormitory guys.' Joan said winking-still chuckling; Michael didn't say a word-he only stuck his nose up high and followed after. Tom's gang said goodbye to them, too but they were all more or less still stunned by the scene that had developed.

* * *

When the seven boys were left alone in the shack all hell broke loose; not many people had seen that but when Camellia had used that spell on Nott he was about to curse her back. But Tom had gotten in the way –very discreetly indeed- and got the message across to Nott so remained idle and took the curse's full blast. So when they were left alone, Nott –angry as a hippogriff- turned to Tom.

'Why didn't you let me just blast that filthy **mudblood**-'

'**SILENCIO**!' Tom bellowed furious; Nott actually took a few steps back by the power of his spell and even Lestrange and Rosier got hit by it accidentally.

The three boys opened and closed their mouths over and over again but no sound was coming out; when they realized it was in vain they stopped.

Tom was not happy. 'How **dare** you call her like that-how dare you call Camellia a mudblood?'

'But, boss-' Avery began yet he was also silenced with a flicker of Tom's wand.

Tom was angry.

'Do you have any idea-just any idea at all how amazingly difficult it is for me to make that girl believe me? It is as if she was born with a built-in lie detector! I can't lie too much to her-she knows it and she won't speak to me unless I tell her the truth! And you go on and call her a mudblood in front of **me**! I have tried very hard to put on this face so everyone will believe me and all of that for the sake of the wizardry world and you try to ruin it! If we don't have muggle-borns like her on our social circles at least in the beginning of our endeavour then we will get nowhere-everyone will suspect us and not just plain old Dumbledore! We **have** to make her think we are on her side-I **have** to make her believe she's my friend and _you_ call her a mudblood-how nice! If she weren't so fond of me and so surprisingly logical at times she would have never spoken to me again-do you understand that?'

'But, with all due respect Tom' Abraxas spoke up again but chose his words carefully 'why do you care even if she hadn't? No doubt she's smart and useful but I can bet we can find many mudbloods willing to vouch for you. Why do we need _particularly_ her?'

'Because she is smart; and cunning; and capable; and much better than Nott will ever be apparently-she bested him twice already with the wand! She is a valuable asset to my team even if she doesn't really realize that-she is one of the most fervent anti muggle-haters there are! If I am friends with her then who will ever suspect me?'

'No one…' Malfoy admitted.

'Exactly!'

'So…you're saying she has many uses to our goal even if she's against it just _because_ she is against it.'

'Yes.' Tom agreed somewhat calmer.

'I see now…alright; I agree with you. From now I will keep treating her like I always have-we should all do so. Those who have been nice to her should keep being nice to her and those who haven't don't start now. So Nott Avery and Mulciber should keep being prats and Rosier Lestrange and I should keep up with this behaviour.'

'Nah, I _kind of_ like her; she has a fight inside her. If she were a pureblood she would have been quite a catch, I'm telling you. Well, if her weight stopped moving too, that is.' Lestrange said absentmindedly when he realized that he -at least- had found his voice.

Tom shot him a murderous look 'You **like **her Stewart?'

'I-I said kind of-not really, just as a person I-I respect her feisty nature that's all. I didn't mean I want to befriend her in any kind of way of course-she's **your** play…'

'Good answer.'

And another fast-forward; this once they didn't get to watch what was happening, everything sped up and was gone in a flash. When they adjusted and could actually see again clearly what was happening around them they realized they were…in a room? In someone's dormitory _bedroom_? It did have a bed…and as they turned around they saw two people occupying it: Tom and Camellia.

* * *

**A/N**: *Misunderstandable is not really a word but oh well, I'm making it now!^^

One more chapter and the up-to-fourth-year memories are over-yay! I feel proud of myself somehow while writing this! And yes, this was actually the shortest chapter of this whole story up until now, shorter than 5.000 (but it was 4.000+). Oh, I feel like this is the first good under-achievement I have made! If you prefer them longer than this though do tell. Anyway, I'd love to hear your opinion; please read and review dears!


	9. The fight and an end

**A/N**:The previous was **one** of the **smallest **(I realized there was one even smaller than that) and this one is the **biggest** yet... Someone should shoot me!

Anyway, this is the last chapter of the 1st-4th year memories, which is why this is so big-I needed to wrap it up; it picks up from inside the bedroom...

* * *

The three realized they were in a bedroom…and as they turned around they saw two people occupying it: Tom and Camellia.

But the room was big and if Camellia wasn't lying on the bed they probably wouldn't have noticed them: there was a draped in green-and-silver bed with the Slytherin crest on its covers in the middle of the room and opposite it there was a black wardrobe made of –what it seemed- expensive wood. Next to the bed, there was a night stand with a drawer and on top of it were some pieces of parchment and a book. There was also a relatively big –proportionally to the room's size- bookcase with glass doors, beautifully decorated with green leaves and vines -they noticed the bookcase was full. Naturally, all the furniture was black in colour and from the same expensive looking wood which had various carvings on it –for aesthetic reasons- while the floor had a black-and-green flokati rug covering most of it.

Tom was sitting on the rug supporting his back on one side of the bed, book and a piece of parchment in his lap; his feet were close to his chest and there was an ink bottle next to him –which was almost empty- whilst he was writing. Camellia was laying on her belly on the bed, reading a book out loud, her hands either supporting her head or turning a page while playing with her feet and writing down something in another long piece of parchment…but there was no ink bottle next to her and instead there was a huge ink stain on the snake's eyes and mouth.

'This is Tom's room…' Harry remarked; _they allowed a muggle-born to walk the floors of **this **dormitory? Tom must have been quite the commanding and imposing brat…! Well, you can't call him exactly a **brat** but a prat definitely…_

'What gave it away? The expensive looking furniture, the green drapes or the **huge snake painted on the covers**?' Ron taunted.

'All of it.' Harry snapped annoyed. Ok, it might have been a dumb thing to say but he just had to say it-Ron was doing that all the time, too so he shouldn't be like that! _**He**_ wasn't mocking him when…scratch that; he did mock Ron when he did that.

'Just shut it and watch…' Hermione snapped the two of them worn-off.

* * *

'I finally get it! But why isn't it in the book on the first place?' Tom asked exasperated as he searched some pages of the book that was in his lap; he then casted it aside rather indelicately.

* * *

And that was what drew their attention -as Camellia's rant about metamorphosis was not something they were willing to hear about-.

'Dumbledore _explained it to us_ but obviously you didn't pay any attention to him once again because you knew I'd be helping you out. But this is getting tiring Tom; I have to spell it out for you when it comes to transfiguration. Just set aside your problems with him and you'll see what great results you'll be having…! Well, to his class; you practically excel in everything else.'

'On the contrary of you who only excels in Dumbledore's class; why is that? Do you have a crush on the old oaf and you want to show off?' he asked humorously yet annoyed; she smirked wickedly.

'No; **you** do! Or maybe he does, if he's giving you such a hard time as you claim. Or maybe you _both_ do-'

She didn't get to finish her sentence though, because the book that was previously unceremoniously thrown away now landed on the top of her head. '**Ow**! Tommy!'

'Do you realize how _**wrong **_what you just said was and on how many levels?'

He sounded almost disgusted and obviously he didn't take kindly to it and the book that flew out of turn was their hard evidence, even if there was a trace of humour left in him. But hang on; did he throw a book in her head for something she obviously _joked_ about? He had serious temper issues! Not that they failed to notice that in the previous memory where most of the people surrounding him were almost blasted off by a simple _**silencing**_ spell.

'Tch; you heal my foot in Hogsmeade and you injure my head in your room all in the same day. Seriously Tom, there is something very wrong with you…'

At the mention of the event that took place in Hogsmeade they noticed Tom swallow dry, even look uncomfortable, while his eyes darted immediately to nothingness; her eyes on the other hand were hungrily observing his every reaction. It was almost as if she was testing to see how we would take the mention of 'those" events. 'Tom?' she probed.

'I know what you want me to say…What happened today at Hogsmeade was most regrettable; I still cannot believe it did happen.'

She scoffed; Tom looked at her surprised. 'Please Tom, you're not speaking with a teacher-you're speaking with me; I can definitely understand when you're being formal to cover up for something. Plus there is something on your mind. Let's have it then.'

She sounded certain, and she wouldn't be taking any objection to what she'd said while one could detect even anger in her voice-anger because Tom took her for such a fool; yet Tom raised both eyebrows looking like he didn't know what she was talking about…but Harry would bet all he owned that it was just an act to make her drop the subject because it obviously didn't benefit him.

'I don't know what you're talking about; I only said-' he continued still playing coy with her but she cut him off.

'What you would have said to headmaster Dippet had he asked you about the events of this morning…but I'm not him; and I know you; and I know there is something going on. So what is it?' How much of a dim-witted idiot did he have her for? Did he not know by now that she had his number-much better than all those idiots who claimed to be his friends anyway?

'…' he was very hesitant, he turned away from her again but this once he looked sad; his eyes had dropped to the floor, where his feet now lay and he tried to search for an answer good enough for her: one that would satisfy her but not the truth. Or at least the complete truth, as he wouldn't want to see her reaction otherwise. 'You see today Nott did something very bad and completely inexcusable; I have told him a thousand of times to never talk to you like that-especially when I'm around to hear it since it makes me so **mad**…' the excessive anger that escaped his lips was like a wake-up call so he stopped and put his thoughts into order once again. 'But he did it anyway.' Camellia had gotten off the bed and sat next to him; she looked apprehensive –or she tried to comprehend him- and she was staring intently at his face. She wanted and would have been looking in his eyes but he meticulously made it so she couldn't; he knew every time she gave him _that look_ he couldn't help it and the truth was blurted out unwillingly.

That was what this whole act was about; acting hesitant, sounding heart-broken and ashamed-all of these were fake. Harry knew it, he could read it in his body language –especially after all the time he had spent "studying" him- and the only true trait was that spike of anger that made its way out when he was referring to Nott. But that was it and Harry wanted to tell the girl so badly; he wanted to make himself tangible so he could storm into Tom's bedroom and shake her from the collar of her sweater and scream at her: '**He's deceiving you, don't fall for it**!' at the top of his lungs, but he couldn't. And he knew that, too.

When he saw the girl trying to understand him so hardly he felt sad for her; Tom did not deserve this girl no matter what. She was there for him, helping him and all he wanted from her was to enable _him_ and his purpose. He felt sick to his stomach seeing how perfectly Tom had everything prepared: the "heart-breaking" scene, the tone, even the fact he invited her to his room.

* * *

Camellia, that was now trying to make him look at her, sighed... and then she did something quite unexpected that caught by surprise the dark lord himself.

'Tommy…' she moaned… and then it happened: she took a small stray tuff of hair and fastened it behind his ear. Then she allowed her fingers to trail down his neck and only stopped them when they reached his elbow…and he stopped shivering.

The moment her hand had so unexpectedly –and rudely, according to Tom- grabbed his hair and then even dared to caress him, he broke into small -but perceptible from Camellia- shudders. He was rather annoyed she had done something completely unnecessary and meaningless like that but at the same time he felt something very odd running down his spine, something that confused him.

What was it? Why had his skin crawled-why had he reacted so strongly to a simple **touch**? And was it a good or a bad thing? He did feel like he enjoyed it but he didn't know if that was good or not for him and his plans; last thing he wanted was to have to worry about what he _felt like_ around her! Feelings were not important and if he was completely honest with himself he did feel ego-stricken when he was with her but that didn't matter. **All it mattered was that she served his goal**. Now if he got something enjoyable out of it was only an upside…

No; it was unnecessary! He shouldn't be thinking like that-why did he think like that? He should focus on the practical part of their "relationship" which was making her believe they were friends and that's that; anything else would complicate the already a bit tangled "friendship-relationship" they had (whatever **that** was). So he should forget he liked the way her fingertips brushed at the rarely exposed part of his neck-that's why he felt like that on the first place. No one had ever touched his side of the neck; who does that anyway? She must be crazy… she couldn't –and shouldn't, for her own good- be getting intimate with him.

'Do you really take me for such a fool Tommy?' she asked disappointed, her eyes never leaving him.

She heaved a little sigh.

But as soon as she'd said that he snapped to her with wide eyes and a completely lost expression on his face; he was searching for an answer in her big greenish eyes and Harry was certain he was trying to perform Legilimency on her. But hey, she deserved more credit than he'd thought; she actually hadn't fallen for his tricks.

'What do you mean by that? I am not lying to you…!' he inquired desperately while defending himself, still unaware of what she was thinking; Harry found only one reason for him not knowing: the girl knew Occlumency.

'Oh come on now; do you really believe I'd fall for it? I mean-' she eventually looked away, looking troubled and tired of this sort of situation; her shoulders dropped as she gave another sigh. 'I mean of course I believe you instructed him not to talk to me that way but…I see no reason. Why would he hear you? You're just his classmate-even if a friend.

'Yes but I do make people listen to me in case you haven't noticed.' he intervened hotly but she nodded and continued like he had just made her point for her.

Which brings us to my next argument; why do these people need to… _obey_ you? Are they afraid of you-and why? It just seems so odd; I keep feeling you're drifting and drifting out of touch Tom and I don't like it at all.'

'They are most definitely not afraid of me' he lied thorough his teeth quite successfully pretending to be righteously offended 'but they respect me because I am smarter and more knowledgeable than them; even the older ones do, too for the same reasons so it's nothing I should be ashamed of. Nott should be ashamed for what he said to you.' Tom contradicted absolutely, like finishing (and winning) the argument; yet she wasn't finished.

'But should he really?'

'Sorry?'

'You say that but I can sense you're lying-when you said you were furious with Nott for saying that it did feel like you were honest though! That just makes me believe that…'she shook her head; she didn't want to believe it herself apparently.

But Tom was almost **scared**. She couldn't possibly have seen through his plans, could she? And how? She didn't dare use Legilimency on him, did she? Well, that was to be found out in the next torturing passing seconds. 'Tell me the truth; are your pure-blooded friends influencing you against muggle-borns? Because obviously you have told them to back off from me but something in your behaviour tells me you don't really give a crap about the rest of us, "mudbloods" as your friends call us.'

He immediately darted his eyes away from hers feeling uncomfortable but still putting on that righteously offended look; he even had the nerve to get angry. 'Oh that's really what you think? I am so impressionable that a couple of pure-bloods can make me believe whatever they want, huh?'

She momentarily went very still and very silent; Tom was thrilled now, even if he looked nothing like it. She had picked up on something but she was on the wrong path, if she thought that and so Tom would have an easier way of saying it was not true, as he _wouldn't_ be lying and she'd see that. He was also a tad annoyed she, even though she knew him all this time, would think someone had influenced **him**.

She though, was thinking rapidly as if she was calculating all the variables of a math problem. 'You are right; you are everything but impressionable. If anything, you're the one influencing people.' Tom smiled triumphantly at the girl's realization yet his victory didn't last long. From the way she sounded he expected –because he knew her that well- she would continue with a new argument, more solid than the previous. 'But if that is so and taking under consideration that none of them was so fiercely against muggle-borns' rights doesn't it mean _you're_ the one making them such muggle haters?'

* * *

Lord Voldemort turned white; she looked very saddened because of that. She now needed no more to tell her she was right-his expression was enough: he had the exact same look he had ten seconds ago but it was frozen on his face and his colour had drained at once. He even stood up and took a step away from her; she followed his example determined.

'Wh-what?' he managed to ask stuttering. Oh no; she had seen through him. How did this happen? And it didn't even sound like she had done something like actually reading his mind-it only seemed she had him figured out.

He swallowed.

Suddenly the girl turned very red; her face was nothing but a mask of building up anger. '**You **_**dare**_** to ask me "what" when you put on a face like **_**that**_? **What do you expect me to do-become completely oblivious to what happened the past minutes**? **Are you daft**?'

'_**No**_' he barked getting angry as well; no one talked to him like that and she had to be taught the good or the hard way. And he couldn't afford of losing her, too so this had had to be settled in any way possible that wouldn't leave her with suspicion. '-**but it only means you are insanely paranoid**! **You think I am** "**out to get the mudbloods**"?** As if I have nothing better to do with my precious time**!

'**You snobbish**-!' she interrupted with the pointing finger at the ready but he didn't let her finish. He only took a step forward threateningly, towering over her.

**And **_**why**_** would I want something like that on the first place**-**what have _they_ done to me**? **I am not a full pure**-**blood myself**, **isn't it more logical that I would be doing the exact opposite**? **Why **_**shouldn't**_** I throw my likes with them instead of the self**-**centred prats**-?'

'**It's not** "**them**" **Tom**, **but **"**you**"** because in case you have forgotten I am one as well**; **what is it with you acting as if I am not a mudblood but something else all the bloody**-**time**?' she snubbed taking a step forward herself, being in his face now.

'**And why in earth are you calling yourself a** "**mudblood**"?' he retorted with a sense of finality in his voice, completely covering her short frame for intimidation but things didn't go the way he wanted; she flustered and started pacing up and down, hands on her hips.

'**Because I bet that's how everyone else in here is calling me so I didn't mean to confuse **_**you**_** or anyone else who ****might be **_**eavesdropping**_** at the moment**,** seeing we both scream at the top of our lungs**! **And by no means**,** I am not supposed to know why you would be doing anything**-**you've been growing too resentful of muggles lately so I can never know what you're thinking about them anymore**! **We used to speak about everything but there are some subjects that lately you just clam up or lie about**! **Why Tom**, **why**?'

She was shouting and literally prancing in the room, as if her argument was indisputable, her logic undeniable yet completely mad at the context of her words; Harry had asked about this, if she realized he was changing, but he never expected it to be noticed and confronted with in such a way. And what was McGonagall talking about anyway the first day they had asked about them? This looked neither like a peaceful way of resolving matters nor as constructive criticism. Well, they weren't in public of course…

'**Look here you crazy deranged **_**witch**_,' he said close to furious and he stopped her strutting by grabbing her by the arm '**I would **_**never**_** call you a mudblood or allow anyone else to do so**; **and since **-_**for an unfathomable reason**_-** I actually **_**take**_** the time to engage with your ludicrous accusations and paranoia I demand your respect and faith when I'm speaking with you…**!_Do you understand_?'

* * *

He was shaking her by that arm each time he gave emphasis on something and he was close enough to her to feel her breath that came out sharply or dragged out according to her mood. She was looking at him just as murderously as he was staring her down…but in all honesty he looked far more dangerous than her, even if _she_ wasn't scared of him. 'Oh I understand alright; the execution is that which troubles me…'

He let her go all too indelicately, almost throwing her a couple of feet back on the bed and now he was the one pacing up and down. But he wasn't strutting; his walking was nervous and erratic, he just couldn't sit still.

'You little ingrate; you ignorant fool! I try my hardest just to make sure y-and _you_ go ahead and…-of course I am not influencing anyone against _you_' he drawled purposefully 'muggle-borns and I think you are one of the brightest people I know so I don't believe you would say that about me-I would never make them do something they weren't inclined to do or do something that is against my personal ethics…stupid girl.'

He was muttering all of these loudly enough to be heard by her; now she was the one who looked lost and didn't know what to do with what she'd heard. She had never seen him like that before, physically involving him himself either by grabbing her or walking all over the room, so she was confused. She could swear what she had said when he had turned white was because she was right but now he had caused her enough doubt to start reconsidering. And if he went to such lengths merely to convince her that only meant he cared for her and wanted her as his friend…for an odd reason she found that satisfying enough to finally drop the "tough girl" act. 'You-…you mean that?'

She was sitting on the bed, looking up to him guiltily like a doused cat; his eyes casted a severe look on her originally but as soon as they met hers they relaxed and then he rolled them exasperated. 'Yes…! Of course I do. I have no reason to want you harmed; I practically live with you most of the times.' He sat next to her, pretending to be hurt. 'I hate it that you would even think that about me…but you're right; I have been drifting away lately but not for what you think I have. Please believe me.'

Oh no he did not; he looked like the perfect hurt puppy and he sounded like the perfect crying cat-and in Harry's experience women couldn't resist that. He had done it to Ginny himself because he wanted to buy something way too expensive as a gift for their first child –even if they had agreed on no exaggerating gifts- but definitely not to convince her that he was **not evil**, like Tom was doing now.

* * *

But he convinced her; no matter this girl's wits and forebodings, he convinced her that there was nothing wrong with him and that he was just a normal teenager, dealing with all sorts of problems in his life-like the "loss of his parents" or whatnot.

She smiled at him content and then did something they figured it was deemed –once more- completely unexpected by the young dark lord:...she attacked him! Well, that's what he thought about it at that particular moment –judging from his completely frightened expression- as the 15-year-old girl had buried her face in his chest and her hands were wrapped around him: both hands snaked around his back. She, on the contrary, appeared to be rather comfortable like that.

'Um… Cam'? What are you…?' he sounded uncertain and...scared?

'I'm sorry Tommy… I'm such a git sometimes…' she said, barely being heard, ignoring Tom's comment.

Eventually, he relaxed in her arms and put a loose hand around her, too; then he started petting her hair tentatively in the beginning but after a while his hand kept doing it mechanically. 'As am I… I am terribly sorry myself.'

He felt her smile and he looked down wondered. 'You smell of parchment, do you know that? You bookworm…' she said amused as she kept taking his scent with big inhales.

'And you smell of butterbeer you little drunk. Been hitting the three broomsticks with those savages you have for friends, have you?' he taunted in return smug and she let a little laugh. 'Now can you please let go of me? This feels very odd and I don't like it.'

'Aw, little Tommy does not like physical contact or any other kind of human contact, does he?' she asked, finally looking up to him; after he gave her a mean look, she gave a small laugh in return and then let go off him. 'There you go, you big baby; here,' she said after she let go, and she threw him whatever she was scribbling earlier 'something you can handle: my homework. Read it over and you're good. And my friends are not savages. '

But that wasn't a complete truth-there was a lie somewhere in there and he knew it; it did feel odd she was hugging him all of the sudden… but he did like it. He liked it because he felt that now there was nothing he couldn't compete with as far as that annoying Michael was concerned: he had seen her hugging him a couple of times so now she hugged him, too they were more than even. Plus, for some other odd reason, he had felt unexpectedly alive when she'd done that-as if he was aware of every little cell on his hands and chest and anywhere she had touched.

Just as soon as Tom rolled his eyes dramatically to her previous comment the memory started fading; in a matter of mere seconds, the three of them were back in the headmistress's office!

* * *

'I think my skin crawled right about there…' Ron commented; he was the first one to speak, too.

'Where exactly do you mean?' Harry asked still quite surprised by what he had seen; for the god damn sociopath as everyone had presented him to be, he sure looked normal around: a boy who didn't want his special girl to find out the bad bad things he was doing. Of course, special girl didn't translate into girlfriend but just that- a special girl.

'You have to ask-at the part where they were fighting and she suddenly -poof! - hugs him out of the blue!'

'Oh that one; yeah, I felt it, too. But I was shocked to see him going to such lengths only to protect her from the rest of the blood-crazed blood-thirsty gits; and did he really treated her as if she wasn't a muggle-born?'

'…yes; weird, isn't it? And do you know what's even weirder? You see how Malfoy goes on about her now- even from their first meeting, right?' Hermione asked them insightfully.

They nodded interested; they knew Hermione always made "pointed and summarizing questions" -as McGonagall loved to say-, so this was bound to be good. 'Well, do you know that despite his overall hostile demeanour Malfoy is the key catalyst in this girl's disappearance…?'

'Seriously?' they asked in unison; she nodded affirmatively. 'And how-what does he do?' Ron continued.

'Well, if you wanted to know that before you started watching the memories you might as well have had read the book.'

'That is not fair Hermione and you know that!' Harry said teasingly; she shrugged.

'Hum…see if I care; after all, this is a…visualized book. So what kind of person gives out the end of the book when the rest are not even in the middle of it?'

'Oh come on; you just want to torture us for having you read the whole thing while we did nothing.' Ron said sulkily.

'Then she has every right not to indulge your inquisitive and curious nature as you do nothing to quench it yourself' the strict yet now coloured in a lighter tone voice of the headmistress said behind them; their heads snapped to her immediately. 'but I take it you must be quite interested in this.'

'No kidding ma'am; this stuff is wickedly juicy! We never knew Voldemort was capable of leading such a life!'

'Then when you get to the last chapters of the book you'll be doubled surprised than what you are now mister Weasly. But enough talking; I need my office now.' Seeing the three of them literally withering as soon as she'd said that she widened her eyes amused; she probably should let them boil in their stew for more, but she figured Hermione shouldn't suffer the same as the men who chose the easy way out. 'You can have it back in the afternoon, though.'

They looked at each other thrilled; that gave them a hell lot of a time to talk more about what they had seen and they could watch more of this in the afternoon to come! And what was best-the next year, if they went fifth year, was the year Tom had opened the chamber of secrets; both Ron and Harry could feel themselves shaking with anticipation. Truly, Harry had been told the tale once by Voldemort himself, but he got the very short version-now he'd be seeing the uncut one!

'That's great professor McGonagall, thank you so much for this!' Ron said.

'And of course, we ought to thank you for giving us your office on the first place!' Harry completed.

'Well, it's almost two o'clock now; can we come back around five, headmistress?'

'You may; now off you go.'

'Yes ma'am.' the three said simultaneously and –after Hermione grabbed the book- dashed outside.

'Quite energetic, are they?' Dumbledore's portrait spoke highly amused.

'Wouldn't you be, too?'

'Good point; and when is the kind mister Malfoy coming here dear Minerva?' he inquired further, ever-amiable but at the sound of the "kind mister Malfoy" Minerva cringed.

'Lucius Malfoy is not a kind man, Albus.'

Dumbledore seemed surprised by her comment. 'I was referring to the son who is definitely kinder than the father but I had no idea you had invited Lucius instead of Draco.'

'I invited both-I invited **all** of the remaining Malfoy family that is "blood related" and older than 22 years of age actually.'

'Does that mean Nausicaa, Lucius and Draco Malfoy?'

'Indeed; did you mention them in chronological order on purpose or is it my idea?'

'No I did; Nausicaa, sister of Abraxas Malfoy, aunt of Lucius Malfoy -who is father of Draco Malfoy- and great aunt of Draco Malfoy himself.'

Suddenly Minerva grew very dark 'Why did we never find Camellia? Why did we have to read Voldemort's book in order to finally know what happened of this girl? How could he outsmart us all?'

'No one ever doubted his wits Minerva; only his intentions. Take comfort in the fact he left the book behind for us to find.'

'He did?' she immediately asked, snapping her head to him; he gave a wicked grin. How naive could Minerva be sometimes, it was amusing to the old man; to think the dark lord left the book in that room so it would be find was only normal given if he really wanted it never to be found then he would have merely destroyed it. Maybe a part of him did not want her to be lost in oblivion or maybe he did not want that part of **himself** to be lost in oblivion, Dumbledore didn't know; but he did know he left it back on purpose.

'…what do you think?'

* * *

The whole way to their "office" they didn't utter a single word but they waited until they were safely in and no one could hear them; this whole situation was crazy as it was, so they felt the need not to indulge any inquiring or nosy students the truth…yet. But once they got to the room, they wouldn't stop talking…

'Let me ask one thing that's been going around my head for so long; if this girl was o_h so special _or whatever then why could she be so easily fooled- _**if**_ she was the smart girl everyone is giving her credit for?' Ron asked wondered; up till now, he couldn't say he was all that surprised or stunned by this girl's smart but he was amazed at how well she could handle Voldemort. But that was it! If she fell right into his lies every bloody time she was on to something then what was the point? And where was the enticer for Voldemort?

'You can't be serious?' Hermione asked incredulously; both Harry and her husband gave her the same prompting look.

_Ron's right_, Harry thought, _apart from the ridiculously convenient gift of hers to deal with Tom so affectively, she has no other significant enough intellectual gifts to make Tom to notice her_. So why was Hermione giving them that look? 'Why would you say that Mione, the man's got a point?'

'Do you have the faintest idea how hard it is for a person to realize their best friend and probably secret crush-love interest is a raving lunatic who wants to off everything and everyone similar to you yet he _doesn't_ think it right for people to talk that same way to you, too? Do you have any idea just how hard it is-even for a smart person- to actually suspect that sort of thing under these circumstances?'

'…no. why should it be hard? She saw how he got when she told him he was the mastermind, why didn't she go with her first gut-feeling? Aren't women supposed to be better than men to this sort of thing?'

Hermione huffed. 'You say that **now** Ron that you know what he's capable of already; back then the sole person to ever suspect he would be up to something bad was Dumbledore-and that was after some time, too!'

'Yes, but she saw him how white he got, couldn't she have figured it out by then?' Harry snapped.

'Did you _see_ how well he faked the reason? And did you also see that he was generally being _nice_ to her and everyone else?

'All but Michael, he was.' Ron interrupted; Hermione thought he was actually right.

-and everyone else besides Michael?' she repeated and added the last part. 'She couldn't have known, she could only have suspicions but even those would not be enough for her to distance herself from the first person she ever made friends with and that was her best male friend in the **school**! Besides...you think it is easy for her to reach to that assumption or that she didn't **want** to believe him?'

'And all of these brilliant arguments are presented so thoroughly in the book, I take it?' Harry asked meaningfully; Hermione seemed to get annoyed. Just because they were thick enough not to understand a girl's feelings it didn't mean the same went for Voldemort…or herself.

'Well, not _all _of them, but some of them; the rest I could think up for myself because I'm not stupid **and** I know how girls -and normal people- think!'

'Well _I_ think she was being a git, believing him like that.' Ron said ultimately and crossed his arms.

'And _I _think Hermione is right about her wanting to believe him but that doesn't mean she was not completely **dumb** to do so.' Harry stated and acted accordingly.

'…I agree with you on that one…' Hermione admitted and shrugged.

And then, there was silence…

'But you have to admit: it was weird seeing someone hugging Voldemort.' Ron reignited the conversation, unable to hold the silence any longer.

'Or Voldemort being nice to someone…' Harry added.

'Or both; not to mention it was very odd to see him fighting like a teenager with another teenager especially when related to a girl!' Hermione chimed in; they all laughed.

'We have to hand it to her I guess; she must have been the sole person in the world who saw him behave like that.'

'That's why he wrote a book about her, mate.' Harry said worn off.

'And that's why she just disappeared from the face of the earth like that, without a warning.' Hermione said suggestively; they looked at her right away.

'Tell us, what happened to her after all?' Ron inquired, seeing it as an opportunity to get the answer from her; but obviously she didn't say it lightly because she smirked wickedly.

'No.'

'Pretty please?' Harry begged, even getting his puppy-eyes to work for him.

'No.'

'You're no fun.' Ron snapped while Harry started sulking.

'…I **will** say one thing though: her fate was much crueller than that of a mere killing curse.' The two men opened their mouths to ask but she continued. 'And that is the only thing you'll get out of me. Now why don't we go for some lunch-I'm starved! But did you _**see**_ Tom's bedroom?'

* * *

Has anyone ever wondered why I mentioned the Malfoys? Come on, be frank!

~I (hope) I will update soon!


	10. Enter fifth year!

**A/N**: Hello! I know I haven't updated in ages but I have been having a crazy couple of months! Good thing is I actually have the next couple of chapters almost ready so it'll be much easier to update. Uh-huh, yeah; thinking about it you must be having a hard time remembering where I'd left off. Well, this is already huge as it is so if you'd please go back and check it out coz I can't add a preview ^^

_**

* * *

**_

_**Earlier that day, in the Malfoy mansion…**_

'Is this…true father?' Draco inquired stunned.

His eyes were travelling disbelievingly between the letter he had just read and his father's stern look; could this really be…? Instead of answering, Lucius Malfoy barely nodded and held out a letter, the letter _he_ was sent from Minerva McGonagall, identical to his son's. The contents of the two letters were unbelievable to both men and as Lucius thought it over now, this would look like a distasteful practical joke had not Minerva McGonagall –the most humourless person they knew- sent these letters and someone else had.  
Actually, it **had** looked as a distasteful joke at first reading but Lucius checked the letter's authenticity to _make sure_ it was headmistress Minerva who had sent them so when he was verified he was left rather shocked…and maybe the exact same way Draco was looking at him now: gaping and eyes unfocused.

'But… if this is true doesn't that mean Voldemort and grandfather Abraxas plan-oh no! How are we going to tell aunt Nausicaa about-she's old and she might not be able to bear all of this…?' he asked, finally pulling himself together. He looked worried and anxious and his eyes were peering at his father's face.

'Your "aunt" is the _least_ of our concerns.' Lucius bit out coldly… but it sounded very odd to him himself to talk like that about his favourite aunt –could he say something like that- and just as soon as he met his son's appalled gaze he turned away awkwardly. 'It is very difficult for all of us Draco…' he excused himself from Draco's judgemental glare that was speaking to him a "how can you say that?" '…but from what my letter said I reckon aunt Nausicaa must have already gotten a letter like the ones we received.'

Draco turned white 'What? Are they crazy-?'

'Calm yourself; in my letter they mentioned she'll be told of everything there. The only thing they said they _will_ mention is the time and date of our summoning. And you aunt is not that old…'

'Summoning?'

'Why yes; did you not read the letter all the way through?'

'…no; I stopped where it said that Voldemort and grandfather did…_that_…' just thinking about it made him shiver; _how could they do, how could a _Malfoy_ do something like that to someone-no matter mudblood or not. Well, the politically correct term is muggle-born now but old habits die hard… _but still, the very thought of what mentioned that they did to that woman was enough to make his skin crawl. _Poor dear aunt, she loved grandfather so much-she only spoke well of him…_

Lucius, noticing his son's discomfort –and feeling quite the same himself, in light of the news he'd just received- tried to continue with the conversation. 'If you had you would have known that you, your great aunt and I are invited to Hogwarts in three days from now in order to bring everything into the light of day. _Marvellous_' he drawled sarcastically 'as if our family's name wasn't dragged through the mud enough before this; now they have one more reason to look down on us.'

'Just the three of us? What about mother or Astoria?'

'Your mother and your-wife-to-be have nothing to do with all of this; if they were they would have also been sent a letter. Once we go there and clear this once and for all then we may send word for them to come but then and then _alone_…'

His father tone made it crystal clear he wouldn't be getting a different answer, but in all honesty, he didn't plan to fight him about that. He stood up. 'Yes father, I agree. I shall go see how aunt Nausicaa is and if the letter is delivered yet.' He tried to walk away but stopped short; he turned around and faced his father. 'Should she ask what this letter is talking about what should I tell her?'

'I don't care-…' he began coldly but his derisive snarl was cut off on its own; he reconsidered his answer and –sensing Draco actually understood his state of mind as this once he looked sympathetic instead of angry- he gave another try to answering 'tell her something that will prepare her for what she is to hear in three days but shall not break her heart. I am sure her _dear brother's_ cruelty will do that when she hears it…'

Draco nodded and left for his great aunt's quarters…

* * *

_**Back in Hogwarts, 5 o'clock in the afternoon…**_

'Albus Dumbledore.' the three spoke the password simultaneously; the gargoyle moved upwards and led them to the headmistress's office.

'I find it quite frustrating you are always on time when you have to do something you enjoy because that automatically means you never really liked my lessons…'

And the three jumped; headmistress's voice had come from behind and they didn't expect her to be there. 'Don't say that ma'am; we loved your classes!' Ron said, after sighing in relief, and nudged Harry.

'Oh yes, definitely!' Harry agreed, falling right in cue; Hermione rolled her eyes at their stupidity for not letting **her** answer.

'You are not good liars, Mister Potter and mister Weasly; I wonder how in earth you made it alive through _that year_.'

Of course "that year" referred to what it was supposed to be the trio's seventh year in Hogwarts that they skipped and in reality they devoted it to tracking down horcruxes and defeating Voldemort. And for Minerva McGonagall to actually say something like that…she must have been annoyed by the fact they couldn't lie good enough to make her believe they liked her lesson…or maybe just the fact they didn't like her lesson or the fact they lied. Oh, who cared?

Hermione coughed; once she had attracted all of people present's attention she proceeded to ask McGonagall for permission to use the pensive once more and made the formality of her tone extra noticeable.

'Of course you can, don't be ridiculous.' the headmistress replied –still a little cross- but immediately moved for the gargoyle herself. 'I shall be going now; do make sure to be finished by the time I return at 9 o'clock.' Before they had the time to say: 'Yes madam!' she had disappeared with the gargoyle.

'O…K. I never expected her to get sour over something like that; she didn't really expect us to like her classes, did she?'

'No but to be that much more eager to watch the life of the dark lord…give her a break Ron, of course she'll be pissed.' Hermione reasoned with her husband; Harry shrugged.

'Still; she was pretty excited with the book and everything herself 'Mione so she can't really blame us.'

'Bringing that up Harry, did you notice how we still haven't seen McGonagall… or Hagrid in these memories at all? I thought they were friends or whatnot.' Ron noticed.

And then they realized he was right; why was that? Hermione found it odd because in the book she'd read there **were** mentions of McGonagall (_that annoying Gryffindor owl who thought she could boss everyone around_) or Hagrid (_the huge oaf_) and their relationship with Camellia (_the Gryffindor owl treating her like she was her successor_ and _that gigantic dimwit having a crush on her because she took a fascination on his vile creatures_) while in these memories they were nowhere to be seen. Then again these memories were but one or two from each year while there were whole chapters in the book so she guessed all of those were something that made the editors cut; the point was to see how the **two** of them interacted and not with the rest. And even if seeing how she interacted with the people around her would offer them unbiased insight on her personality, Voldemort was not one to present a whole and unprejudiced view of the world rather the opinion he wanted. After all what he did on the first place was to force his very personal view on muggle-borns and muggles on the whole world just because he wanted and could.

'I guess they aren't important enough to him to include in the memories because there **were** brief mentions of them in the book; maybe he just wanted to focus on their personal relationship. But he did say Camellia liked dangerous and rare beasts as much as Hagrid did-they got along on that aspect. I remember he also mentioned that she wanted Hagrid to name Aragog "Brutus" (like Malfoy's great-grandfather) but he thought it was a dog-name and not a spider-name so he named him Aragog instead.'

At the simple mention of the gigantic spider every hair on Ron's skin was standing up straight. 'She was mental if she liked that…_thing_ that Hagrid called a friend! She was mental I'm telling you.'

'Calm down Ron, it's only a faraway memory; Aragog in long dead, remember?' Harry comforted his friend yet he couldn't help but sound teasing because he was in between laughs; thinking all the horrible things Ron had been through his whole life –ever since he'd met Harry, as Harry just realized- it was almost funny the only thing he got so agitated over was following the spiders and then meeting Aragog-_even if we did get valuable information out of him_…

'How can I? I still have nightmares; those eyes haunting me and I can't sleep!'

'…he isn't lying about that unfortunately…' Hermione admitted sourly, remembering all the black circles under her eyes due to her husband's troubled sleeping –that kept her awake, too-. 'But why do we even talk about these things-don't you want to see the next memory? You heard what McGonagall said: we have only… three hours and 54 minutes until she comes back.'

'When did you get to set the timer again-I didn't even see you!' Ron said amazed-and a bit annoyed he really didn't pay attention to that.

But Harry was just as surprised. 'I'll never understand why you don't want to come with us Aurors Hermione; you'd be perfect for directing the missions.'

'Let's just get to the pensive.' she merely said with a smirk on her face; why yes, she knew she was good at many things and good for them to notice.

As usual, she was the one carrying and handling the book; she rushed to a page where another sealed pouch was –so fast one would say she had the page marked-, she removed the seal and poured its memory into the pensive.

Before she gets to drag them all inside once more Harry got to see that on the page she opened the book a new chapter was starting, entitled:

"Year five: a different world."

* * *

When they opened their eyes they found themselbes in a very familiar yet what it felt like foreign place at the same time; they were standing in the middle of a classroom. And it wasn't just any classroom but the transfiguration one; yet the teacher standing now at the desk was not McGonagall but Dumbledore…it felt sort of weird to them that it wasn't she looking down at the students but Dumbledore's twinkly eyes; he wore a rather content smile that anyone who knew him also knew it was a bad thing…for those who weren't Dumbledore that is.  
The students –who were Slytherins and Ravenclaws- were all looking down, their noses almost touching their parchments –apart from a few selective pure blooded Slytherins and Tom-and it appeared as if Dumbledore had given them an assignment or a test because they were too quiet.

'OK, we found Tom-he's right over there, with his back straight, third row; where in the blazes is Camellia?' Ron asked looking thoroughly at his left; Hermione pointed to Harry who had turned to her and he immediately nudged Ron.

Camellia was the only one not looking down or writing away on her parchment; instead her feet were crossed and up on the chair next to her while she was almost lying in between the two seats. Her hands hung loosely on the side and she had a bored expression on her face. She was on the first row, too which only meant her indiscretion was much easily noticeable. Her hair were now long, reaching her elbows, apparently she still had problems regulating her weight and she was even wearing glasses.

'Are her feet up on a chair?' Hermione asked scandalized; she had read in the book she was rather nonchalant while in class, but this was ridiculous!

'In Dumbledore's class?' Harry completed shocked because she'd dared to do that while having a lesson with _Dumbledore_ of all people. Only just realizing that Ron himself, his chin hung.

'You're right! And why she isn't writing-she's the only one.'

'…Maybe she already finished hers?' Harry offered; Hermione contradicted him right away.

'No; there is no parchment on her desk or Dumbledore's for that matter. I'm guessing she didn't really do it at all for some reason; I mean, isn't always Voldemort saying how the only subject she's good at is this? Maybe Dumbledore feels the same way…'

The boys considered; that did make sense.

* * *

'Time is up ladies and gentlemen; pass on the parchments to the person in front of you and so on until all of them are gathered at the front row.'

They had never quite seen a classroom full of people respond so immediately at a teacher's request before because as soon as he'd said that, they all put their quills down and did as he'd ordered. Actually, all of the rolls were given and collected in front of Camellia who lazily put them in a nice (surprisingly) neat stack -without using her wand- and then she kept fiddling with the edges that stuck out. 'Very well; and now if you would be kind enough to bring them to me miss Adams?' his tone always had the same cheery quality they so vividly remembered and his eyes still gave that playful glimmer.

Yet, the girl rolled her eyes distastefully –probably because he gave the job of collecting and moving the parchments to her- and slowly, _very_ slowly, she took her feet off of the chair and managed to move to the desk. Any other human –and wizardry- being would have taken approximately a minute to do these maximum, but it took her almost **five** because no sooner than she stood with the parchments, she dropped them.

'_Please_ professor, let her use magic or else she'll take the whole day; and we don't have that much time in our disposal do we?'

* * *

It was Tom who'd said that from the third row, looking indignant yet somewhat amused.

Of course each and every student in that lesson was already snickering laughing or taunting her, but she disregarded them and kept on doing what she was told without a rush; apparently though, that drove Tom mad because he had actually said "please" to Dumbledore.  
The Slytherins closest to Tom laughed; Dumbledore silenced them with nothing but a pointed look. 'If I allowed her to use magic then the whole point of her punishment would be empty; she received it because she forgot to study for the pop-quiz _even though I aforementioned it_' he said amiably yet he gave her a glance –that made her blush as she picked up the fallen parchments- 'so don't complain.'

Tom sighed; 'But she is very clumsy;' Camellia rolled her eyes as she finally had all the parchments in her hands very worn off 'it will take her forever to practically reach your desk and then go _all_ the way back to hers.' But she realized he was right because… she dropped them a second time; the rest giggled but Tom continued. 'Not to mention that sort of punishment for one test is just plainly cruel.'

'The way I punish my students should not be a subject _for_ the students; but do you not have something to say for yourself dear?' Dumbledore gave Camellia the right to intervene; she shrugged.

'No matter what I say he's always an arse' the laughs this brought were ignored by the girl 'and once he's made his mind up about something you can't change it...sir.' she added the word forgetfully in the end.

Tom turned red and they were quite certain he was not embarrassed; he was getting mad. Well, she did call him an "arse" in the middle of a class where none other than Dumbledore was the teacher…or maybe he got mad at Dumbledore for allowing her to speak since he knew she'd be saying something like that. Still, Camellia carried on with picking up the scrolls.

* * *

'Five points from Ravenclaw for language' Even if Dumbledore didn't sound all that scolding –maybe amused- the Ravenclaws in the classroom winced 'and I must admit I agree: he's quite the stubborn one indeed.'

He gave Tom a very piercing look that made him sit up straight.

'Stubborn as a mule.' she commented after finally making sure the documents were firmly in place and proceeded to dispose of them –literally dispose judging by the way she did it- on top of Dumbledore's desk; Tom chuckled annoyed.

'You're no better you know; but even _you_ are not that bad to be given as a punishment to stay and clean the classroom **and** spend the rest of the day without using magic. This is a magical school after all.'

'Five points from Slytherin and _ten_ points from Ravenclaw for language.'

Tom bit his tongue annoyed by his own idiocy for calling her like that in front of a teacher in the middle of the class and she almost slapped herself; yet then she realized it and instead of sitting down, she shot right up again.

'You said _ten_-**why**?' she complained.

'You had already been given a point reduction for the same thing, it's not wise to repeat our mistakes-especially so close to one another…'

'But he deserved it!' she kept on protesting, pointig at him, still not sitting down.

God she was stubborn…And annoying.

'So did you…' Tom said in a very formal, superior kind of way.

She rolled her eyes at him but pouted nonetheless and crossed her hands, clearly annoyed. '_Bloody git_…' she murmured under her breath, in hopes Dumbledore wouldn't hear her but too bad for her he actually did.

This once Dumbledore did look scoldingly at her that same way he always did to the three of them, too –the see-through look over his glasses that instantly makes you feel guilty about something- and she blushed furiously but tried to keep her expression the same annoyed face. She didn't mean for Dumbledore to hear that (and she felt bad that she'd get Ravenclaw in trouble) but she didn't care if he did, too; she wasn't the person to be bashful, coward or say things behind someone's back.

'Twenty points from Ravenclaw and-

'Oh way to go Cam…' and similar sarcastic hissings were heard from her classmates but they were silenced as Dumbledore continued.

-I'll expand your detention; two days without magic. And that includes all the classes you have tomorrow, too but-

**'What**?' both Camellia and Tom protested.

-don't worry; I'll alert all of your professors. I'm sorry, Tom, but why are **you** being so shocked?'

'P-professor, two whole days-that's a bit too much; look, I'm sorry -even if I don't regret it- so could you just-?'

'No; two days. You didn't answer me Tom…'

That was the second time that day he wished he'd bitten his tongue; he could not believe how he could be such a fool to snap that? And now Dumbledore had spotted it and he was going to torture him for it!He didn't even know why he said that-he just wanted to oppose Dumbledore originally but then it was simply a reaction. 'I have an idea; why don't you stay here with her after class and help her clean up the classroom?'

'Wh-?'

'Or even better, since you seem so willing to defend her why don't you two split up the detention? That way from now on both of you won't be able to use magic for the rest of the day but just for this day; I will spare her that way…a little.'

As soon as Dumbledore said that everyone's reaction was immediate:

'**WHAT**?'

'Humph!'

* * *

He was furious; she was trying her hardest not to laugh; the students were looking at them like they were some sort of rare Herbology specimens. Now Tom was glaring between Dumbledore and Camellia –mostly at the grinning professor- while he, too was trying his hardest not to burst into uncontrollable twitching and yelling.  
When Camellia's urge to laugh was finally successfully suppressed she looked up at Dumbledore 'Please sir, don't do that to Tom; I'm think he'll have a heart attack or something.' She sobered up suddenly. 'I'm very serious professor, you don't have to-you _shouldn't_ split the detention like that; I can handle all of it by myself.'

Dumbledore and Tom looked at her the same way: narrow-eyed and surprised-it was just that Tom was also suspicious while Dumbledore amused; the rest of the class were looking from one to another like watching a tennis match.

'You'd be willing to take all of the detention yourself even if you were presented with an alternative that's more beneficiary to you?'

'It's my fault alone I talked the way I did and Tom only wanted to undermine your authority rather than sticking up for me so if you have to punish him, punish him just for that.'

Tom went red by her last comment but he couldn't blame her considering she was more than correct about his motives and merely darted his eyes away from both Camellia and Dumbledore. On the other hand it was very frustrating how she always tried to be a goody-good, especially in front of the certain teacher.

'Why, you are correct Miss Adams; fine then, your detention still goes but Tom will be helping you with cleaning the classroom after this lesson.' somehow it sounded that that's what he wanted from the beginning.

'…Fine…' he accepted his punishment without protest this once, seeing it only brought him trouble today; Camellia smiled beside herself but other than that she kept a straight face.

* * *

The rest of the class fast-forwarded -Harry just had to find out how Voldemort did that, it seemed a pretty interesting technique- and when it stopped it was just the two of them while Dumbledore was withdrawing to his office in the other room…

* * *

'Are you satisfied now? Look at what you have me doing!' Tom protested once they were left alone; she stopped whatever she was about to do and looked at him utterly offended.

'I beg your pardon? It is certainly not my fault you seem fit to fight Dumbledore every chance you get; you shouldn't have opened your mouth on the first place and everything would be just fine for you.'

'Huh! Is that so? So it's my fault for trying to stick up for you; do kindly remind me next time not to do so.'

'As if you really did **that**; if it were any other teacher, _like Slughorn for example_, you wouldn't have batted an eyelid. You just really want to prove Dumbledore wrong or unfair all the bloody time.'

'…'

He didn't say anything to her but shot her a look that said "you're wrong but pigheaded so I won't be trying to reason with you any longer"; he started getting the mops and the water ready for the floor as she had already prepared hers while speaking. They mopped for a while in complete silence…

'Is that how this is going to be?' he asked out of the blue. She kept on mopping her side of the floor but looked at him wondered; like sensing her gaze on his back, he turned around to face her and found himself staring into her searching greenish eyes. He raised an eyebrow prompting while staying still for a moment, urging her to mimic his reaction. 'Well?'

She stopped, too.

'Well what?'

'I think I asked you a question…'

She went back to her mopping, expression void of any emotion. 'Did you, now?'

'…So you are still mad about that?' he asked as he recommenced mopping himself.

'What do _you_ think?' she drawled sarcastically, now anger and annoyance evident; he grimaced.

'I will not be apologizing for something that wasn't…completely my fault. You haven't apologized, too.'

'That's because there's nothing to apologize for; besides what's the problem? I thought you wanted me to "shut it for once" and now it's bothering you?'

'Stop using my words against me; and I wouldn't mind if I knew you were doing it in order to honour my wishes but now you're doing it in the form of a punishment and I had enough of those for today thank you very much. And what's with you-why didn't you study for Dumbledore's test? You knew all of the answers to the questions; they were all exactly what you had warned me that would probably be in a test such as this.'

'…'

'The silent treatment again? Humph, see if I care!'

Silence...

'Ugh! Answer already!' he burst out in the end; he threw the mop on the floor and kicked the bucket with the water making her jump.

She turned around alarmed from the racket he caused and when she saw what he'd done her chin hang in mid-air for a second; she didn't bother answering him and he knocked down the bucket? What was wrog with him? That was the first time she had seen him react that way. But then her head then snapped instinctively to the door that led to the professor's room, worried he might have heard them and come in. She sighed in momentary relief that he hadn't come out.  
But the water had spread across the floor, soaking her shoes –thus her stockings and making her feet feel icky- and the picture reminded her of her living room back at home when one of the pipes had gone bad and made a mess. For a moment forgetting she had taken off her robes -and vest and tie- she rushed to lift them away from the floor but then she just glared at Tom.

'Temper issues tommy?'

'I said answer me or I'm not picking this up-

'Yeah right! Dumbledore will-!'

-even if it causes me to get more detention.' he finished, cutting her midsentence when she was trying to make her point; her eyes grew in size but not out of surprise but anger.

'You twit! Are you-…?' she looked away and then back to him. 'Fine, _Neanderthal_, see if I care; take double detention like me-I'll have someone to "share my pain" with.' she replied shrugging and went back to the mopping of her side of the floor.

Tom didn't let her apathy –or lack of sympathy more accurately- go unpunished: he took out his wand and charmed the water; it started floating and then hovering over her head. When she realized what was happening, she looked up and "scared" moved to the side.

'You're answering my question or your side of the floor gets it; and you with it.' he threatened absolutely and lowered his wand a tiny little bit. Her eyes became very small very fast.

'You wouldn't…!'

'Oh I would!'

'You do realize that I can protect from this with just a flick of a wand and turn the water into steam before it even hits the floor-or my hair for that matter?' she said provokingly and patted her hair into place.

'No you won't; remember Dumbledore's orders? You can't use magic for the rest of this day and the next one…and you're too much of a good girl to cheat on your detention.' Her nostrils flared; 'So you have ten seconds!'

'I am not going to be blackmailed, pretty boy!'

'Ten…'

'I'm not saying a word.'

'Nine…eight…seven…five.'

'Hey! You cheated there!'

'**Two**…**one**-!'

He motioned for the water to fall but Camellia almost tackled him to prevent him from dropping it, keeping his hand up high; 'Alright, I'll tell you!' she said as he made him leave the water back in the bucket instead of the floor; with a triumphant smile he humoured her and did as she "asked". He had pure-bloods at his beck and call, even fifth years and teachers accommodated him for almost two years now thus this lowly mudblood girl could be no different...and she had to be taught that, the good or the hard way. It was none other's but _her_ fault she chose the hard way. Besides this was nothing compared to what he did to others or what he was planning to do...

'I'm listening…'

She gave him a very pointed look but spoke nonetheless; 'Unlike you, I already knew the answers anyway, I just didn't want to do that assignment...and I never thought if you hadn't done the assignment you couldn't take the test at all; how was I supposed to know of some crazy rule like that? Sometimes his rules are so arbitrary it's driving me crazy…! But I guess it's much better than Slughorn who likes you only if you have famous relatives or great grades…' she said meaningfully and gave him an equally suggestive look.

'It's not my fault if he thinks I'm special enough to invite to his parties and make me a permanent member of his slug-club…that you dislike due to your ridiculous theory of equality and no special favours. But that **is** how the world works: with special favours, special treatment and being unique.'

'…' she stuck her nose up high and then she turned around distinctively; he tried not to react and reasoned with himself that hexing her for such a matter would not be wise.

'And for the record…indeed, I can see you don't care if I'm giving you the silent treatment at all. Imagine what you'd do if you did; put me under the imperious curse, would you?'

* * *

To that all three onlookers burst out laughing. 'That was spot on!'

* * *

But Tom didn't find it fit to be so revealing of his true nature and chose to lie again. 'Oh, that's the opinion you have for me; how wonderful. But I don't really care if you speak less or not, point is to answer me when I'm speaking to you.'

'Since you're being so nice to me all day; you know, the fact I answered you because you _threatened_ me into it doesn't exactly help with my decision of not speaking to you-in fact it reinforces my choice of being mad at you!'

'Not speaking to me? I never said you _shouldn't_ speak but that you should know _when_ to speak.' he clarified all teacher-like; suddenly Camellia changed all colours of anger in an instant.

'Obviously you need to learn that **much more **than **I** do' she went back to her mop and busied herself 'because what you keep saying only makes me think that you are a huge arse' she violently plunged the mop in the water 'and I'm better off not speaking to you **ever again**!' with a sense of fury and finality in her voice and went back to her cleaning, her back turned on him.

* * *

'Tch! Serves him right, the prat; one just doesn't talk to a woman like that.' Ron snapped angry in Camellia's stead; Hermione turned to him surprised.

'Ron you've learnt when to talk and what to say, too!' she said thrilled and threw her arms around her; Harry laughed and Ron gave a goofy yet satisfied smile.

* * *

But Tom had a much different reaction at her comment than the three time-trespassers; he went a bit pink in the face not knowing either to be angry or actually satisfied with her comment and merely stood there watching her clean up.  
A moment passed and he seemed to come to a conclusion to his inward debate and he took a deep breath; he sighed. 'Can you be more stubborn?' he muttered complainingly 'It does have at least half a week since we fought about that and you're still holding a grudge-it's maddening. Even Dumbledore picked up on it...'

The matter-of-fact tone of his voice made Camellia look at him so angry, even he felt the exact contempt and rage she wanted to communicate; being the first time he had ever seen her this pissed, he actually looked surprised. It was odd, she realized, that he seemed to be proud of her or pleasantly surprised with her behaviour only when she was being or felt a worse human being -when she as angry, when she tried to hurt someone or retaliate for something- or when she did something that he threatened her into. But she tried to ignore that though, justifying it on the fact that everyone was selfish and malignant deep inside, he only showed it a bit more.

He looked away; she followed his example. '…I shouldn't have said that, you're right; I was just very angry at that moment but not even at you for that matter; but please try to understand…'

* * *

'Is he trying to apologize?' both Harry and Ron wondered out loud, shocked more than anything; Hermione nodded and even though she had read about this she still found it shocking to bear witness to.

* * *

Camellia was now giving him the raised eyebrow, only times three. As he said nothing else and just went back to his cleaning, head a little lower and looking uncomfortable –_the bastard knows how to act in every kind of situation-he's not even remorseful yet he looks nothing but,_ Harry thought, angry that this girl was treated this way- she kept looking at him, scanning him, and trying to detect even the slightest hint of sarcasm. In the end she spoke. 'Is this really an attempt at an apology...? you really need to work on it. You haven't even said the expression "I'm sorry" or "forgive me"…'

They darted their eyes to one another and held each other's gaze briefly; in the next three seconds something unexpected happen: she rolled her eyes and hit him on the head with the wooden part of the mop.

'Ouch! What was that for?'

'You are a prat; do try to remember that Tommy, will you?'

'…what? I don't get an apology accepted speech?'

'You got an apology accepted gesture; if you had actually said you were sorry you'd have gotten the speech.'

'And _whacking _someone on the head with a dirty old mop is an _apology accepted_ gesture…? I reckon most people hugged or showed affection for that sort of thing…'

'"Reckon"...?' Why would he use that verb; had he really not ever felt like that? She shook her head 'Besides, I hugged you once and you went rigid; obviously you're not comfortable with stuff like physical contact so why should I make you awkward…?' She looked confused in the end. 'Did you _want me_ to hug you?' she asked incredulously.

'No but did _you_ want to hug me but didn't hug me because you thought I'd freak out if you did?' he asked, just as confused as she was and they kept looking at one another questioned.

'No, this was the first thing that came to mind, hitting you-…I mean, I don't mind hugging you is just that I didn't feel like it because I know _you_ don't feel like it anyway and-…wait, I lost track of the point I was trying to make.'

Suddenly Tom started laughing-it _sounded_ genuine; Camellia was initially surprised but then started laughing, too –maybe at the stupidity of the whole thing-. 'I may not have entirely understood either you wanted to hug me or whatnot but I do know you're no longer mad at me.'

She smiled; 'Then that's all we both need to know.'

* * *

And scene!  
~Hope you liked it; do leave a review if you did, pretty please! ^^ Oh yeah; the giggles pretty much end in the next chapter and finally things will start getting darker...


	11. An unbreakable vow

**A/N**: Told you I'd be fast to update this one and here is me keeping true to my word! Enjoy! ^^

* * *

She smiled; 'Then that's all we both need to know.' and went back to her cleaning.

But he didn't follow her example; suddenly he became thoughtful and looked at her. 'Why did you defend me in class when Dumbledore wanted to give half of the detention to me?'

'Because it isn't right; I swore and you only defended me to Dumbledore.' she replied without stopping to look at him; he still wasn't satisfied though.

'But you said you didn't really believe I was defending you.'

'That is completely unrelated; technically you were even if actually you were only trying to undermine Dumbledore's authority. Besides no matter what the reason, you were the only one who stood up for me even if I was wrong and I thank you that.' she said simply and kept on doing what she was doing.

As she was occupied with cleaning, he smirked; his eyes took a darker shade and his mind wandered. She truly was the perfect alibi: too smart to be taken in by little charm, a fierce supporter of muggle-born rights and a proud muggleborn thus should any accusations befall him from Dumbledore, they would be empty... should anything happen not according to the plan already forming in his mind concerning the chamber of secrets, the _allegedly_ mythical room...But he was sure to find it, he promised hmself that much ever since he found out the truth about his mother.

* * *

The memory ended; the three surfaced.

'OK…what was the purpose of this memory again?' Harry asked.

'Creeping us out I presume because I can feel my skin crawl the bad way; but why did he apologize to her-the poor way he did anyway?'

'He said she was very pig-headed and always wanted to have her way in the book but now I see what he means; maybe he wanted someone to sympathize with him?'

'HIM? I sympathize with HER!' Ron said hotly.

'Well, I bet he didn't expect it to be _you_ the one who'd see it.' Hermione reasoned.

'I thought he _didn't_ expect it to be found at all or else he wouldn't write it. Wait a minute, that sounded better in my head...'

'Why would he write it Harry if he didn't expect at least one person to find it?'

'Yeah…Sounds reasonable enough.'

'Say Hermione, if she were still alive, Camellia I mean, how old would she be now?' Ron inquired "innocently"; Hermione saw where he was going with this -he obviously tried to fish for information- so she decided to tease him.

'If she was alive –and I'm not saying that she is…or is she?' Ron gave her the most faux-annoyed look he had and she smiled. 'Then I'm guessing she'd be…76. Not too old...' she answered her husband's question.

'Well, if she were alive that you're not saying that she is, but is she really?' Harry copied her, making them all smile 'Then how _can_ she still be alive? Wouldn't we have heard of her? Wouldn't Dumbledore have found her? She can't disappear from the face of the earth but still be alive…'

'Aha…' Hermione "agreed" very vaguely with Harry's logic that made both boys look at her displeased.

'You are so helpful.' Ron sarcased.

'You should have read the book.'

'You are so nice.' Harry snapped back.

She gave a very un-Hermione-ish giggle but then took a very suggestive look; she peered at them. 'The time for laughs and giggles is over boys; it is time for the really important memories.' Ron and Harry looked from one another to Hermione and grew solemn. 'The next memory is the beginning of the end; it's the end of innocence; the opening of a whole new world; it's-'

'Hermione just get on with it already!' Ron snapped worn-off; she always did that. Why did she always have to do that? She was worse than this when she read to him his letter of acceptance in the aurors' force department.

'OK…geez! This-is-the first-memory of Voldemort… pertinent to the Chamber of secrets!' Both men widened their eyes in greed; she smirked. 'Shall we boys?'

They needn't telling twice; they got around the pensive in a blink of an eye. She did everything slowly: opened the book to the right page, got the memory out of the book, untied the pouch containing the silver thread and poured it into the pensive. 'One, two, three!' they counted altogether and dived.

* * *

They found themselves standing behind Tom, in front of the Ravenclaw dormitory but the door was still closed and Tom had made no motion of walking in or protesting; he was looking extremely satisfied with himself.

'May I go in?'

'What is the price on the user when using a curse on a victim?' the door knob asked; Tom smirked. He once had talked about that with Camellia and some other people from both dormitories, two years ago, but it felt like it was an eternity away to him. But, apart from that, the next year it had also been established that the one who curses does suffer, one way or another, so he guessed that Cassiopeia was correct to agree with that Ravenclaw.

'Has the victim brought this upon themselves? And what kind of curse are we talking about?'

'…'

It didn't answer; instead the door opened, revealing the dormitory and the people in it. The blue sofas were surprisingly fully occupied and everywhere he turned he could see at least three-man companies speaking vividly to one another. Tom frowned when he realized Camellia was not in her usual seat-or her seat for that matter, so he started searching all around. 'Camellia…' he called out ultimately because he couldn't quite spot her. But no answer came from the girl. 'Camellia?' and then he saw a hand shooting out from the sofa nearest the window. 'Camellia!' he said delighted in the end and jogged to her.

But to his sudden disappointment, as he approached he realized she wasn't alone but Michael, that annoying –even if he was a pureblood- "friend" of hers, was right next to her. She even had the book she was reading in his lap as she lay across half the sofa, thus being invisible because they had turned it to face the window. Probably that was her idea because she always loved being in the sun…that gave her the nickname "sunflower" amongst her peers but Tom had decided that as far that was concerned she deserved to be called a "lizard", since lizards went wherever there was sun, opposed to sunflowers who were immobile.

'Would you stop for a moment? I am trying to work a serious problem out with Mike here.'

'This. Is. a Transfiguration essay…' Tom said tentatively; he was trying to see if they were still sane or not considering they referred to that as "serious". And truth be told Harry and Ron had to agree with him on that one.

'Your skills of pointing out the obvious are surprisingly accurate for a man who never uses them…I am impressed.'

* * *

The three chuckled.

* * *

'All of that in order to tell him to shove it? It would have saved you time to tell him that from the very beginning and we do have a lot of important work to do-.'

'Oh please! How can you call that "important work" or "serious problem"? It's only homework and _not_ that difficult anyway…' he said indignant but suddenly he got very serious. 'And she would **neve**r tell me to shove it.'

'…you're telling me she's never told you that? This is practically her catch-phrase…'

Michael was obviously annoyed by the way Tom always held himself special and now it was obvious in the dismissive and almost offensive way he'd spoken; and just because Tom was made prefect it didn't mean he could boss everyone around.  
But if Michael was all of that, then Tom was _furious_ as this person dared to say something like that to him; he never even _tried_ to be nice around him, as he virtually was with everyone else. He never really got into fights because it would be bad for his image and he cared to have purebloods at his side but there was something about this pureblood he refused to accept…Maybe his constant blathering of muggle-born rights that he and Camellia supported so fervently together.

'Alright; allow me to elaborate on that: even if she did tell me something like that it would not be in the presence of a third party because, _unlike you I suppose_,' he drawled for emphasis 'she **respects** me.' he snapped effortlessly; Michael was so shocked by what he had just thrown at him that he immediately went red.

'Honestly Tommy, that is too much-'

Before she could make her protest on what an arse or how insensitive and mistaken he was, Michael had shot out of his seat and had extended his wand! She sat up on the sofa for the first time and watched the scene develop worried but definitely amused.

And for the viewing pleasure of everyone in the dormitory at that moment –including the three best friends who looked mystified by now- Tom and Michael were standing fully against one another, both having their wands at the ready. Tom had possibly expected this outcome…or he was just very quick at drawing his wand as it was just as threatening as Michael's.

'Say that one more time Riddle…I dare you.' he drawled with excessive hatred; his face was a mask of anger; his hand was shaking.

'Try using that wand Jades…I double-dare you.' Tom's voice was equally bathed in loathing yet much calmer; objectively, he looked more battle-ready and threatening than the young pureblood. Not that they were surprised to make that observation…

'Very well…' he answered, tightening his fist around his brandished wand steading it; he took a deep breath to calm himself 'Stupefy-!'

'Expelliarmus!'

The match was decided: Tom's spell was faster and hit harder; Michael fell back on the sofa, an over-surprised Camellia catching him before he fell down **with** the sofa (and her) and laid him on it. When she checked to see if he was alright…he wouldn't open his eyes! 'Just _how_ hard did you hit him? This is supposed to be a **disarming spell**-how much force d'you put into it?'

* * *

_Wait, why did he use a disarming spell?_

* * *

'Oh please-he'll be fine; he's just passed out for a little while. Now will you come already lizzy?'

'Why is he calling you Lizzy?' Jules asked her best friend wondered –who was somewhere in the background all this time, watching rather entertained-.

Camellia looked highly displeased at the turn this conversation-event took and one could see she was irritated by the way Tom had handled things; he on the other hand that had sounded rather carefree and casual in the end, looked very impatient at her not following him. To Jules question he couldn't take it any longer so he explained. 'Now come on, we don't have all day if you must know…'

'…' she was about to say something but her words died out before she could voice them; instead, she balled her fists and raised her chin –like bracing herself- and dashed to Tom.

As soon as she reached him, she grabbed him by the first piece of cloth of his robes she could find and dragged him outside; when she did that, a smile spread to his face, assuming she accepted his request to follow him. As soon as they went outside the dormitory and the door was safely closed behind them, hiding them from the rest of the people, and making sure no one else passed…

'For a moment there I thought he wanted-'

* * *

**SLAP**!

* * *

He was stopped mid-sentence from the resounding echo caused by her strong right hand.  
He was left stricken; the way his head turned as she slapped him –as he never expected she would ever go so far even if she had hit him prior to this but not in such a forceful way- stayed there with wide eyes. He couldn't believe it; he would blink but each time his eyes would stay just as wide as in the beginning. Had she really just done that?

The girl looked very disturbed, very angry -almost raged- and the hand that had slapped him across the face was still in mid-air shaking. 'Do not **ever**…say something like that again; especially to a friend I love and care about. I do not expect you to _understand_ the concept of companionship and friendship but I do so don't **try **to humiliate my friends. You are right; I do respect you. Which is why I did not do this in public, I did not want to make you feel bad because I know you are very proud. But you deserved it; and every time you do deserve it, I will make sure you get what you deserve.'

When he registered what she did and what she was saying, he looked at her very taken aback; she had just slapped him –he didn't really appreciate the fact she had the decency to do it in private- and she dared lecture him on top of it. He could feel his hand trembling, itching to grab his wand and curse her for _daring_ to slap him-daring to imply her friends were better than him; or maybe it was trembling because all it wanted to do was slap her in return…or even worse. Yet he couldn't help the thought that he'd actually enjoyed it…oh bollocks; if he started having masochistic tendencies now, it wouldn't be very good: he aspired to inflict pain, not receive it and he definitely didn't think the saying "if you want to do something then you must be able to endure it, too" should be valid for this situation.

* * *

All this time he was looking blankly at her but he finally reacted: he grabbed the hand that had slapped him and started dragging her away; he remembered to put a little too much force into it, enough to leave a bruise. 'T-Tom? Tom, what the bloody hell are you doing! Leggo of me!' she was a little panicked by his forward gesture and the strength of his grip.

'Shut up and follow, will you?'

'I can't follow because you're dragging me! If I could walk properly-.'

'For Merlin's sake just shut it! I have found something brilliant and I want to show you.'

'Aright, I understand what you will show me must be very important to you but don't you think it's very imposing to simply order me around instead of asking me? I might-dunno, don't wanna come with you?'

'Nonsense!'

'...Like now for instance.'

'Just shut it and follow!'

'…I don't have another choice other than hexing you or following you, do I?'

'You admittedly are a quick-witted one Cam'.'

'…'

Soon enough he had let her free from his grip –when he was sure she'd bruise- but the girl had kept walking beside him; apparently, no matter how abusive he got she could not deny him. He knew that and that's what he took advantage of on the first place.

While they were descending flats and flats of stairs, she finally decided to ask where they were going. 'Um…Tommy dear; where the blazes are you taking me?'

'You'll see soon enough.'

'But we're on the _second floor_; what is there on the second floor other than a couple of classrooms and the bathrooms?'

Just as soon as she said the last word, a smirk curved his lips; 'Exactly; the bathrooms.' he said suggestively as soon as they reached them.

'…what about the bathrooms?'

'And the girls' bathrooms, too!' he continued like he hadn't heard her and stood in front of the entrance; after he took a quick peek around –probably he was making sure no one was passing by- he pulled her inside.

'Tom why are we in the girls' bathrooms? And since you said you found something in here… then why in earth would you be on the second floor girls' bathroom alone on the first place?' she asked more suspicious than ever but suddenly her eyes grew wide-too wide. 'You weren't trying to seduce any girls, were you?' she interrogated and got into his face, her hands on her hips.

He looked at her with his head held high, arrogant and eyes almost shining; after a short pause -to highlight the time he took responding- a smirk like one Ron and Hermione, not even Harry, had never seen before took over. 'And what if I did?'

'You _**prat**_!'

She started hitting him on the shoulder exposed to her repeatedly while he started cowering and backing up, inside the girls' bathrooms. 'I don't believe you just admitted lurking around the girls' bathrooms just so you can ambush a poor one and-guh! You unethical git!'

'If I were I wouldn't have been made prefect now, would I?'

He stopped her by grabbing her with his hands firmly and tried his best to calm her down by shooting a very piercing gaze that could also be translated as a "do-as-I-say". Yet, even if her hands were trapped, she kept trying to free herself although she knew it was a lost cause; he was much stronger than her and he seemed to be looking for a reason to display that.

'Not necessarily, no; if you had never been caught why would anyone assume that you'd-…gerrof me you git!' she shook him off successfully but didn't recommence hitting him, only continued. 'And if you were serious about you seducing girls who come to this bathroom then-'

'Then what? Jealous are we?' his smirk grew tenfold; her cheeks burnt up immediately.

'Jealous, of what? _You_ or your _girlfriends_? Tch, don't make me laugh.' She turned the other way to hide her increasing blush in an effort to sound convincing and folded her arms. 'Besides, I thought you didn't have any girlfriends and you'd said if you ever liked a girl you'd tell me and you haven't told me so I guess you don't really like a girl you're just being a flirty prat in which case those poor girls are the ones I'm standing up for and certainly not some crazy notion like the one you just made and-…' she was ranting and ranting, still turned the other way; suddenly she stopped. 'If what you wanted to show me was the nest of your indecent "woman hunting" then do let me inform you I shall be taking my leave now and I think this is not brilliant at all.'

As she spoke her ultimatum and tried to go Tom stopped her again by grabbing her shoulders; he turned her around, disregarding the fact she had already started resisting again.

'OK, OK; that is not why I brought you here for.' To that she stopped struggling for freedom and he let go of her, too but lingered behind her. He towered over her and made her lean in towards a bathroom sink. '**This** is what I called you all the way out here for.'

Without moving an inch, her eyes darted to him; 'A sink-that is why we're here for…? You are not being serious with me today, are you?'

'Look **at the side** of its **tap**…'

She gave him the same look but did it altogether; as she leaned in closer she noticed a serpent carved on it… 'Is this my idea or there is actually a snake here? Did you do this?'

'Of course not, you dimwit…! But _**I**_ found out who did and what for!'

'…It was Brutus Malfoy when he was young; am I right?'

'No! It wasn't even a Malfoy-think bigger.'

'…OK…the Blacks?'

'I said bigger…'

She gave him a mean look. 'Just because your friends are _all_ purebloods and they keep going on about their family trees doesn't mean we should all know their pasts.'

'Fine; go on, have another go.'

She thought for a moment but apparently nothing was coming to mind; she huffed frustrated. 'Oh I don't know! The only pureblood I can think of who is older than Malfoy is…well Slytherin! And-…' but she stopped mid-sentence; seeing Tom giving a very knowledgeable nod as soon as she said the name of the founding father she almost froze. 'What? Slytherin; as in Salazar Slytherin-_**the**_ Salazar Slytherin…? No, it couldn't be.'

'Yes it could-and guess what this little snake does…'

'…' she merely looked at him inquisitively.

'I'll give you a hint: there is a little story shrouded with the cloak of myth going around about what this snake _opens_ and leads to…'

Her eyes widened; her chin started falling open gradually; her shoulders dropped and she tilted her head back to have a better view of Tom's eyes. '_No_…'

Apparently she finally realized the full scale of what she'd just been told and she seemed unable to believe it; well, they couldn't really blame her. They bet if a guy came to them and told them the same thing they would think they were crazy, too. But this was Tom Riddle they were talking about. 'What if I told you yes…?'

'Honestly?'

'Very much so…'

Her expression changed completely; from shocked it became hungry-hungry for more information yet still cautious not to strike a nerve. 'H-…have you ever been… in there? In the C_hamber of secrets_?' she whispered the last part in fear someone might hear her.

'Yes.'

'And how was it?'

'Impressive.'

Now all fear of him misunderstanding her gone, she practically started questioning him. 'When did you find it?'

'Not a day ago; yesterday night to be exact-I was running away from Dumbledore and got myself in here…'

'Why were you running away from Dumbledore-? Alright, scratch that; that would be interesting in any other kind of occasion but this. So how does it open? I'm guessing snaky over here has something to do with it.'

'You're asking a lot of questions you know.' he observed amused yet they could hear the paranoia in his voice; obviously so could she because she rolled her eyes and puffed.

'I am not going to "rat you out" Tom, for the love of bloody Merlin; is it so odd to want to know all you can about something as huge as the Chamber of secrets? People have been talking about this for hundreds of years-a thousand even- and you're saying I'm being indiscreet?'

'Tell you what, we'll make a deal: you promise me-you _swear_ to me you will not tell anyone and I shall even take you to see it!'

She blinked surprised by his kind offer. 'You would do that?'

'Of course…now hold out your right hand.'

As soon as he said that, her eyes narrowed. 'Are you trying to make me take an _Unbreakable Vow_?' she was almost laughing at the ridiculousness of her own idea but said it nonetheless.

'Yes.' His reply was calm and amiable; she gaped once more. She chuckled. His offer was not as kind as she'd thought now was it?

'For this? And… don't you need a third party to act as the bonder anyway?'

'That is nothing but a misconception: someone **is** required to touch with their wand the joined hands of the contractors as they make the vows yet it does not necessarily mean it has to be a _third_ party. Now hold out your hand.'

'…'she eyed him with a raised eyebrow. 'You are serious.' It was phrased as a question rather an observation and she hesitated.

'Dead serious.' His eyes and smile had grown dark.

'No, _I_ will be **simply** **dead** if we make this vow and by a mere slip of a tongue-'

'Has your tongue ever slipped before?'

'Well, no but-…'

'Then you will be fine; and now that you'll be obliged not to speak about it to anyone you will be extra careful. Now hold out your hand.'

'… ' she did it slowly yet steadily; just as he tried to take her hand she drew it back but kept it in a reasonable distance. 'Why? Why do you want to keep this a secret? This is a discovery to go down in the books of magical history, your name will be written as the one who found the chamber of secrets, the heir of Slytherin-…oh my god you're the heir of Slytherin!'

'Well, yes; from my mother's side as I recently discovered. _Tom Riddle_ is nowhere to be found in the wizardry logs but my middle name, _Marvolo_, showed up; it is the name of my mother's father: Marvolo Gaunt, his daughter Merope Gaunt was my mother, and she was amongst the last living heirs of the Slytherin blood line.'

'You still haven't answered my question though.'

'Wh-you aren't the littlest bit surprised that I am the last living male of the Slytherin family?'

'I am, but I won't allow that to throw me off from my initial argument; why don't you want to tell people about it? Don't tell me you want to fulfil his "noble work" do you?' she was mocking him, apparently not believing that was the case, but something deep inside her stirred. There was always a fear somewhere down there that what she's just said was true that he really wanted to continue Slytherin's unfinished task and that he was as bad and racist as his ancestor but she tried to hide it or dismiss it.

'I simply don't feel comfortable about it; do you have any idea what Dumbledore will be like after I make such a revelation? He'll be practically stalking me and trying to put me under the bloody microscope for everything I do; he'll say I had some sort of interest in saying I found it and when it's revealed it's the real thing then he'll start being doubtful of my intentions! And I can't stand him as it is…'

'I guess you are right about that one.' she admitted thinking it over; truth be told, Dumbledore would never let him live it down and that didn't seem right to her. And she was his best friend after all… 'Alright' she said decisively and took his hand in hers 'do it; I'll keep my mouth shut.'

But didn't she find it extremely-_extremely_ suspicious that he didn't even make a mention to that whole "fulfil Slytherin's noble work" notion? She was very intuitive as a person they had realized so far then how could her internal radar have been thrown off like that? Well, founding an ancient chamber thought to be legend and her being the first person he trusted to tell was kind of overwhelming they supposed but still…

* * *

'Great;' he said happily, took out his wand and, as they had joined their right hands, he touched them with the tip. He felt her hand shake a little but she didn't remove it. 'You will speak to no one of the discovery of the chamber of secrets other than me and should you participate in a conversation about it you will keep your tongue or reveal no new information.'

'I will.'

A fiery red string, like a rope that had caught on fire, appeared enveloping their hands; it appeared to be a tingling sensation and not hot at all as she gave the flaming in appearance string a surprised look.

'And you, should anyone –even Dumbledore himself- ask you anything pertinent to it, you will _successfully_ deny all knowledge of the sort no matter the circumstance under which you are questioned?'

The question drew her attention away from the misleading rope; why would he make her promise such a thing and what kind of circumstance could she find herself under? If she takes an unbreakable vow and something is so serious as to consider breaking it –thus _dying_- then it was not something good…She raised an eyebrow to show him her suspicions but he prompted her; she was still wondered but continued either way because she was also curious to see the chamber. 'I will.'

Another fiery string wrapped itself around their hands and now, linking itself with the first one as if making a chain, and she was looking at them most interested.

'And do you swear not to ask-?'

'Tom!' no matter how engrossed she was with how this unbreakable vow worked and what could this fiery string be, she was no simpleton to let him make her take a vow where she could not ask anything she wanted.

'I meant…should you have any sort of questions about the chamber you will not ask other people or professors but you will come straight to me.'

'I will.'

A third one appeared and now she was looking at them rather hesitant but still didn't do anything to remove her hand or break the deal; she was aware that the only way to break the unbreakable vow without dying then that was before it was complete. But she was not a light-hearted one and stuck to what she was doing. She watched as the third string enveloped the other two and gave out a strong blinding light as it clasped their united hands.

'The vow is now complete.'

* * *

And with that, the light exploded; they both narrowed their eyes to protect them from the sudden exposure. It looked like a campfire that its flames expanded dramatically because someone threw in tinder; a moment later the light was gone.

'Wow…' she said as amazed as she looked and examined her hand like it was a beast in care of magical creatures; he gave her a worn-off look.

'What are you "wowing" for? We studied the effects of the unbreakable vow **together**!'

'_Yes_,' she drawled 'but I had never witnessed it before-how much more do it to myself- and it still is very awe-striking.'

'I guess it is the first time you see it.' he commented absentmindedly but a second later, when he realized what he'd just said, he turned a little whiter and looked the other way fast.

This once though, Camellia did notice there was something very wrong with what he'd just said; she snapped her head to him wondered. When she saw he was looking the other way a brow raised and she circled him; she made sure he could not avoid her questioning and stern gaze.  
Now she was sure of what she'd heard given he acted so defensively so there was only one thing to find out: why the hell would he have witnessed another unbreakable vow? Those are dangerous things! And was that the reason he knew that a third party was not necessary in order to make one? Oh he had some serious explaining to do…

'And where you might have seen it before? Performed another one lately?'

'Err, well, not exactly but I may have been present when another one was being made by two other parties…'

'Uh-huh; and did those parties decide they had no need of you to act as a bonder and they'd do it themselves? Is that how you know of such a detail?'

'…maybe…' he said indifferently and rather convincingly; she gave him the most judgemental and doubtful look she had '…yes…' he said explicitly trying to convince her but her staring intensified; his eventually faltered '…no…?'

'Yeah, that's more like it! Ugh-I cannot believe you witnessed and performed a un-goddamn-breakable vow! Do you have just _any concept_ how serious that is? What if something had gone wrong? What if something had happened to you when you were trying to perform an unbreakable vow when being one of the contractors? Did you-?'

'I am most certainly not stupid enough to do that; experiments are not being conducted with scientists as the lab rats.'

Suddenly she looked ten times more shocked and owl-like 'You mean to tell me you had _someone else_ do that in your place? Wasn't it your idea-shouldn't you do it? Are you barking mad? And who was that other person?' she was acting like a mother scolding her unprincipled yet not-beyond-salvation child and being the righteous person she was she could not quite fathom how he could experiment in someone else's expense. And who was that oh so brilliant person who actually allowed himself to be a lab-rat and just what kind of influence did Tom have over him? And she had to find out about the rough contents of the vow without getting Tom killed, too…

'Those are none of your business besides if I tell you I might as well **die**-!'

'That wouldn't be such a tragic loss at the moment;' she said cruelly; he gave her a most offended look but she didn't give him any chance to start making up pretences to mislead this conversation 'but don't tell me you were careful enough to include anonymity in the contract of the vow? If you didn't do it now then you didn't do it then-spit it out.'

'You may be right –and even if you aren't you don't seem too sorry to have me killed- but it is none of your business why I would be making another unbreakable vow with someone; after all, all boys have secrets at our age, you don't expect me to-'

'Aha! So it's a guy of your age so Slytherin, too I bet-if you're close enough to have secrets.' Judging by Tom's reaction she was correct: he turned red by being idiotic enough to say something like that at a slip of a tongue and he must have been cursing himself inwardly; he could not be any more stupid than he was now and that was all her fault because she was the one throwing him off. Buy if he was supposed to be the most disciplined student in the school and if he wanted his future to be as he had thought it out, he couldn't afford little stunts like this one. 'Is it Malfoy?' she asked immediately.

'I s'pose that would not be an entirely wild guess but even if you were right I could not possibly-'

'It's Malfoy; I got it…what were you thinking you git? And what **was** it about?'

He looked defeated thus he must have been very angry; he let it show –which was very odd, as far as they had seen by now- and his nostrils flared. He narrowed his eyes 'It's **none** of your business-'

'Then next time _make sure _he doesn't die in one of your experiments because his father will storm right in and start questioning just about everyone and even _you_ aren't good enough to talk your way out of something like that coz… believe me someone will tell on you if it were Brutus Malfoy who did the questioning.'

* * *

He didn't say anything at all; he just turned around and started walking away… 'Hey, where are you going?' he didn't bother answering her as he continued and went outside of the bathrooms. 'Tom? Tom!'

* * *

The end...of the chapter! Is this keeping you on edge? I really hope so! Review and message please...well, if you feel like it. :D


	12. The Chamber of Secrets

**A/N**: Next chapter is here! Once my beta reader finds the time, I am confident I'll write and update more! :D

* * *

'Hey, where are you going?' he still didn't bother answering her as he continued and went outside of the bathrooms. 'Tom? Tom!'

She ran after him, reaching him _almost_ immediately –she was really slow and Tom had quickened his pace- and grabbed him by the right sleeve of his robes, not caring if anyone saw them coming out of the girls' bathroom together (and her chasing him).

'What do you want?'

'Tom-_…_!_ I didn't make an unbreakable vow with you just so you can run off offended by my cruel cruel words_' she mocked, always in a low voice '_so go back in there and show me the chamber of secrets now!_' she demanded and pulled him towards the direction of the bathrooms; he tagged the robes free and gave her a very disdainful look. 'What is that stare for?' she asked in the end annoyed; she sighed. 'I didn't say anything wrong; I only told you next time you feel like conducting an experiment don't do it with Malfoy because people with a lot of influence will come looking for him!'

'…Well, that's not as horrible as it originally sounded I guess…alright.'

* * *

They checked if anyone was coming or not again and swiftly found themselves in front of the sink with the carved snake; Tom took a deep breath. He would never say this outloud but he was worried on how she would take him speaking the language of the snakes-as people said it never was a trait of a good wizard; truth be told most of them were evil. Oh wait, he shouldn't be this worried; he had talked his way out of much worse things than this.

'_Open._'

The girl looked at him surprised; he had spoken in parseltongue! 'You can speak bloody-snake language?'

All the pride he got out of her being utterly surprised, he lost it due to the way she said the word. 'It's called parseltongue Camellia; parseltongue. Now shut up and look in front of you.'

Her face had dropped. 'Semantics Tom, really?'

'Just shut up and look!'

He forced her around by turning and **making** her look at the amazing sight: the tap was glowing a brilliant white light and it was spinning; the sink began to move and in fact sank right out of sight leaving a pipe exposed, big enough for an adult man to slide into.

She was now watching the whole scene develop godsmacked; when the "entrance" was finally open she looked at him, her mouth half-open and eyes a bit wide, and pointed at the sunken sink and then to him and then all over again. 'That I did not expect…' she admitted when she got hold of herself a moment later; Tom's smirk was now even wider and he looked very self-content.

'Yet here it stands before you…'

'...Going back to our original argument, why didn't you ever tell me you could speak parseltongue?'

'Well, I didn't know how to tell you-I found out myself a couple of years ago. Besides you know what they say about parselmouth witches and wizards don't you?'

'Oh come on Tom parseltongue is a hereditary ability, who can blame you for something you were born with; it's the same thing with us muggle-borns. Stupid really…'

'I am glad you see it that way-now will you shut it and jump in already?' yet he was pissed she compared that with being a muggle-born. In his eyes, it would never be the same, not by a long shot; still he hid his ammoyance well as he gestured for her to fall.

'Jump in? Um…yeah, I feared that might be the way of getting to the chamber… but you see I'm kind of-'

'-timid, I know; look, I'm a prefect for a reason so I won't let anything happen to you.'

'You're a prefect for the sole reason you have perfect grades and all teachers –with the exception of Dumbledore-' he became a little sour to that 'adore you.'

'OK, but I have already been down there once and I'm still alive, right? Now go on, jump.' he said as he urged her and lightly pushed her towards the pipe; she shook her head immediately and grabbed the edges of the other two sinks in order not to fall in. 'Come on lizzy, it isn't a very big deal…' she didn't budge. 'Oh I know; why don't _**I**_ jump in first? This way you'll see it's perfectly safe to jump after me.'

'Yes, that would be a **tremendously** good idea!' she said too excited while getting out of the way for Tom to jump in.

But he did something different than what he'd told her; he didn't jump in first…and not even alone: he grabbed her firmly by the waist, immobilized her completely and jumped in with her.

* * *

'**Gyaaaaaaaaah**! Tom you **aaaaaaa**~**arse**!' (Of course, Hermione immediately followed her reaction by the sudden change ofsetting making the two boys wince and Ron hurry to calm her.)

She grabbed Tom by his pants, scared while they were falling down the dark and very narrow slimy tunnel; he wrapped his legs around hers to prevent her from struggling or hurting herself but she kept screaming in fear…

The pipe levelled in the end and they finally landed; '**AH**!'

* * *

She immediately got off Tom –elbowing him on the gut in the process for revenge- and –as he had gotten up with her- she started hitting him relentlessly on the chest. **'I should have known-I should have known**! **You crazy fear inducing maniac**! **I was so scared**-**SO scared**! **And what did you try to**-?'

'Relax…you're down now. And you aren't even hurt. Don't tell me you were scared even when I was holding you?' he asked her somewhat mincingly, leaning in to her and making her stop hitting him by holding her hands.

She blushed and looked away; who did he think he was and just because he was holding her she shouldn't be scared? OK, in all honesty she wasn't as scared as she would be if she fell in alone but that didn't mean he had to do something like that…in such a manner. He could have asked her first.  
She _made_ him unhand her but he smirked beside himself. She was so amusing to watch when she became proud even if she was blushing ten times brighter than a moment ago and her expression betrayed he might have been right. The reason he did that was because she was so fun to tease; every time he did something to her she was always fighting back and always in the same way: consecutive hits on whichever body part she found fitting and nagging while doing it. And he would always stop her by grabbing her hands.  
For a man who didn't like to be touched in general he thought it strange he liked the way she reacted as he couldn't help thinking she was like a pet-cat who would "attack" her owner yet the owner would stop her with a stroke. Hum…yeah, that was a good analogy: she **was** like his pet, feisty but tame while having the illusion of free choice.

'You really enjoy watching me squirm, don't you?'

'You have no idea…' he retorted, a wide smile across his face but his tone came out a little bit more sadistic than it should; yet the girl either didn't notice or didn't care as she started looking around her and headed for the dark tunnel. She took out her wand and with a flick it produced strong light. Tom followed her example and trailed after her.

Before long, Tom had taken the lead and started moving faster; she had no idea where he was leading her, and being faster and longer-legged than her, she had to practically run to reach him. Of course that along with the fact that there was slime and water down the floor combined with the other fact that this was Camellia they were talking about, it wasn't too long when she fell on.

'Get up; watch where you're going.' he said the third time she took a dive; his voice sounded distant even if he was but three feet away from her.

She glared at him while getting up 'Yes boss.'

'Don't be sarcastic.'

'Aye, master.'

He turned around only to glare at her '…'

'Just stop that and keep showing the way git. Ugh…how will I get all this dirt off of my robes? It looks-and smells horrible…'

'Are you a witch or not?' he thundered, his face obviously a mask of indignation.

She smiled sheepishly. 'Oh right...'

She was finally standing next to him; he had stopped in front of a stone wall with two carved serpents on it with emeralds for eyes. She swallowed. 'Dear ol' Salazar had a very creepy view on exterior design…'

Tom glared at her again but she didn't seem to care; '_Open._' he said in parseltongue again and they walked in.

In front of them there was a long chamber with even more serpents, pillars supporting the roof this once, and they were at either side, standing imposingly; 'Oh great; his interior design theme was the same: creepy and tacky.' He just rolled his eyes this one.

* * *

'I really don't like being down here again…' Ron muttered to Harry who agreed immediately, remembering everything that had happened down there ten years ago; Hermione was already shivering and clutching the robes of her husband and best friend.

* * *

As they kept walking forward, she distinguished that at the very end of the chamber there was the huge statue of a man, as big as the chamber, and she could safely guess that the man was Salazar Slytherin.

'This is creepily majestic…' she managed to say in the end, after looking everywhere around with her wand always illuminated.

'Stop with the "creepy" already; I think it's very fitting for a Slytherin and he happened to be _the_ Slytherin.'

'Of course; I'm sorry for hurting your sense of beauty…' she joked; then she suddenly sobered up. 'If we are in the chamber of secrets then where in earth is the beast?'

Tom tensed up and all three knew why: he would have hard time explaining to her the beast was a huge snake that killed only on command especially taking under account the attacks to be on the school. So if he hadn't been caught then that must have meant Camellia believed it wasn't his fault thus hadn't seen the snake coz if she had, they doubted she would still be with him after graduation…  
The girl's hair was standing straight and she started feeling seriously scared; Tom was tense and he was looking around wearily. 'I…never thought of that, to be completely honest with you; there was no beast here when I came and it's not here now, too. You think we should go before it comes? Or do you think it might be dead?'

Suddenly she got very calm. 'Hum…it dying sounds like a very good alternative; after all this chamber was built so long ago one would think whatever is in here it's dead but…I thought I saw shed skin, like a huge snake, you know? Maybe a huge snake can survive all these years-why don't you try saying something in parseltongue? Maybe that'll lure it out.' she suggested a bit too eager.

Immediately she started looking around, trying to find a place where such a huge snake could be hiding -the skin was at least eighteen feet long-; Tom froze at her suggestion: he didn't expect her to propose something like that. Normal people, normal _mudbloods_, didn't want to go meeting with the creature that is very well supposed to kill them off; what was it with this girl and her unworldly fascination of dangerous creatures? No wonder that oaf Hagrid was so happy every time he saw her…

'But what if it attacks you?' he asked oh so worried something might happen to her and _one_ **would** believe that he was concerned; Harry though wasn't just one and he felt too bad for the girl who obviously believed him.

'If it's a snake that listens to you then I think you'll be able to keep it away from me; but where can it be hiding? Go on speak to it!'

She kept looking at every corner of the room devoted but Tom was anxious; but then it struck him! If the basilisk had come out only because he was called then the opposite could happen as well; she didn't speak parseltongue so how could she know what he was ordering the beast to do? Brilliant!

'_Stay inside your home; the mudblood you smell is not to be harmed…_' he hissed in that weird sound; Camellia stopped whatever she was doing and looked around for the slightest bit of motion. Nothing happened.

* * *

The moment he spoke, Harry laughed; the others looked at him interested.

* * *

'Ow…come on, speak again; maybe you said the wrong thing-what did you say anyway?'

'I asked it to show its tail.'

Harry laughed again; this once it was followed by Camellia. 'That was fun; but maybe if you kindly asked it to honour us with its presence?'

'Fine…'

* * *

'What did he really say?' Hermione asked.

'He said that it shouldn't leave its hiding place because she is not to be harmed.'

'The hypocrite!' Ron snapped but they all chuckled nonetheless.

* * *

Tom took another deep breath and spoke again in parselmouth: '_Next time I will be coming here to set you on a hunt in the school; you just have to stay away from __**this**__ woman_.'

* * *

'What did he say now?' Ron asked first.

'He said the next time the basilisk will have the opportunity to stretch its tail coz he's letting it loose on the school but it still shouldn't hunt Camellia.'

'Oh? How come?'

'Well, if she dies then everyone will suspect him-she's both a muggle born and knows too many of his secrets so she makes the ideal victim. Thus if she's spared then it's someone else.' Hermione explained; apart from the fact that was the sole reasonably deductible conclusion, she'd also read it in the book.

'Won't someone think that? Or even think that she is his friend and that's why she's saved?'

'Well, yeah but don't forget Dumbledore! He'll be able to convince everyone of his true nature-not to mention he'll have Michael's testimony on him being violent and imposing should she die.'

'True…'

* * *

But still nothing happened; Camellia's face dropped completely. 'Oh well…good thing it's not alive coz if it were it might have started killing people; and that is not good.' she said but sounded somehow disappointed.

'Indeed…' he said thoughtfully, his mind drifting to the possibilities this opened for him; she thought the beast was dead so now he had no reason not to let it loose on the rest. Sure, she was bright enough to suspect him but she couldn't go anywhere else than Tom for specifics and he was smart enough to avoid responsibility successfully.

'So what else is down there? Is this' she gestured to the place around her looking bored now '_all_ you've found?'

'_All_ I've found? I think knowing my true heritage and finding the Chamber of secrets is too much, don't you?' he snapped stung; why did she try to diminish everything he was doing and make it seem unimportant?

'Your true heritage-don't tell me you're gonna go around trying to kill off muggle-borns, are you?'

'What is that supposed to mean?' he asked now getting even angrier; she noticed, but didn't really care. She seemed eager to make her point.

'I know this is big for you because you found some of your ancestors but anyone in their right mind wouldn't be so happy they are Salazar's heir Tom…'

'And why not?'

'Because he would gladly feed me to his monster and make an example out of me!'

'Then that is **your** problem; well, considering your mouth you _would_ be the first one to go.' he said annoyed and started walking away from her.

She grew deep red, very angry, but let it pass and became bored again and apathetic. She knew if there was something that agitated and angered Tom then that was her being uninterested in what he was showing her; so no matter how intriguing this was if she acted like it was no big deal then she'd get back at him for saying something so insensitive to her. 'Oh well; like his rightful heir you might as well had helped him with picking me. Humph! If your family is like that then I don't see the excitement.'

* * *

Tom went very still; she passed by him, wand raised for light, and she caught with the edge of her eyes Tom's expression: wide-eyed and shocked. Oh my, she must have stricken a nerve there. Even better.

'Excuse me?' he sounded venomous. His tone scared her for a brief moment: his voice was ice-cold and deep, very deep. She gulped -but tried not to be heard- but kept her charade going.

'Well, you heard me: being an heir to Salazar is worse than being an orphan; I know **_I_**'d prefer the latter.'

His blood was boiling; she was dissing and being completely disrespectful to his heritage, the nobility of his blood; she didn't care he was the sole male survivor of the Slytherin kin; she didn't care that she had found out about his family! Shouldn't a friend be happy for their friend-isn't that what she always said? He clutched his fists, trying to calm himself. 'I am the _heir_ of Slytherin and there is **nothing** to be ashamed about; his noble blood runs through my veins and it is a _very_**. Big**. **Deal**…'

'Duly noted.'

She was even more apathetic now, her eyes half-closed -either out of sheer boredom or sheer annoyance- and she disposed of her hand in the pocket of her robes…

'Come back.' he said very angrily; she didn't stop walking away.

* * *

One could even feel the almost threatening heat of his breath as his nostrils flared; how _dared_ she imply she was not only **disinterested** but also contemptuous of what he had shown to her? He was Tom bloody Riddle, the pride and joy of all Hogwarts teachers (naturally Dumbledore was never considered among them), the genius of the school and the singularly most exceptionally gifted Slytherin of all times; one lowly **mudblood** _Ravenclaw_ bookworm couldn't question that by shrugging it off and walking away!

'I said: come. Back. **N****ow**!'

Yet she continued walking away in that slouching manner; they felt like she knew Tom would be watching for the slightest of reaction from her so she put up a rather nerve-racking facade just for him to see. If there was one thing that made the young man to whom her back she'd turned lose his cool, then that definitely was things he'd planned not going as he'd anticipated. It was clear now that she was trying her best to drive Tom furious with her behavior; but why the hell would anyone willingly provoke the Dark Lord's wrath? That was not the smartest play in the book, especially if they wanted to live to see tomorrow.  
…And even if they were confident enough in their abilities to believe that there were slim chances for them to **make** it alive to see tomorrow then they definitely didn't do it with their backs turned to him because those chances would immediately drop to zero! All of these of course with the stipulation the said person were aware of the danger they were in... Apparently she had no sense of danger though, because even if she was holding on to her wand, she still didn't look concerned she had no visual contact with her potential attacker.

Tom on the other hand, started looking more and more like he was losing control of his reasonable mind; furious and...shocked -one could say- his hand was shaking violently, painfully obvious to anyone who could be watching that he was debating over using it to curse her or not. His quivering lip seized, his chin clenched tightly; he had decided. Without another second's doubt, he pointed at her back and put the light of his wand out.

She put out her light, too realizing what he was up to and complete darkness covered them; if he was going to attack her then she might as well not make herself an easy target.

* * *

_Uh-huh…_

* * *

'I thought you knew better than to disobey me, flower-girl.' foreshadowing and tension rising in his voice with each passing second but she still wouldn't move. 'I hope you never make the same mistake again-_stupefy_!'

'_Protego_!'

It happened in seconds: as soon as he made his declaration, just before he shouts the spell, she turned around, wand at the ready; the spells were released simultaneously and due to distance, her spell overpowered. Apparently she was more than aware of the danger surrounding her...

The blast of the spells were lighting the place up and threw it again in darkness as they disintegrated; but they were enough for the duelers to see each other's places. The three onlookers could also see their faces: they could never quite fathom seeing a person that raged before-even if Harry had seen him getting angry, this was like nothing he had ever seen. Mad -in the context of crazy- was fitting to describe his emotions at that moment as he had just lost a match, a duel with someone and if you are lord Voldemort that definitely is not an option. In other words, for him, this was outrageous!

'Don't underestimate me, Tommy-boy! You think I don't know what kind of snake you are...but to actually attack me when my back is turned? You just reached a new level of cowardice!' she spat, keeping her shield up; yet Tom didn't actually try to cast another curse.

'Cow-cowardice?' he seemed unable to even understand the concept '**_Me_**? How dare you, you annoying mudbl-…'

Tom and Camellia froze; at the sound of his last word both of their chins dropped. Actually, Tom's jaw hang rigidly and then proceeded to imitate the action of a goldfish out of the water, obviously failing to give an explanation; Camellia's eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets, looking at him in an extremely odd way. It appeared as if he had just made a huge revelation to her, and with her free hand she started pointing at him shocked.

'No wait, I didn't mean-' he blathered but she was cut off by the girl who spoke shocked yet with realization.

'You just called me a mudblood!'

'No hang on, I didn't-'

'Yes you did! You called me-…I knew it; I **bloody** well knew it! Of course, hanging out with that pure-blood-loving git Malfoy and all those lackeys of yours worship you like you're some sort of god!'

'No, I didn't call you-'

'Of course you did! You disgusting-'

'Look, it was just a slip of my tongue because like you said yourself, being with Abraxas-'

'How gullible do you think I am-just shut. _Up_!' she shrieked and immediately reacted with her wand: the spell hit him straight on the chest, a wordless command.

* * *

Tom was left dumbstruck; had she just managed to hit him with a spell? And it was a silencing one, too? If he could talk, he would swear or shout at the girl… Oh dear Merlin, she was going to pay dearly for that-they were sure of it…! And he followed through with his reputation as his wand descended -wordlessly though- and a blue ray hit her!

She staggered backwards, barely managing to stand on her own two feet, and shot another spell towards Tom 'Expelliarmus!' she shouted but her voice was colored with pain; it didn't find its target this once, but she did see Tom's next spell racing to her and leapt out of the way just in time, singeing her hair; the rays were all both of them saw anyway. '_Expelliarmus_!' she shouted again, dodging another one; the silencing spell made it much more difficult for her, damn it!

'**Stupefy**!' he bellowed as soon as he realized he could speak again; she ducked and jumped, landing on the floor with a roll, and shooting another spell of her own. He dodged and another worless spell was fired; before she could go entirely out of the way, it hit her on her back and landed her on her face; she rolled behind a snake and tried to catch her breath.

'**Lashio**!' she screamed at the top of her lungs when she could finally breath again; it hit!

When the three looked over at Tom, they saw him…jumping back, with his whole left side turned; but then they saw a big mark made by blood on his turned side; it appeared as if she had just hit him with an invisible whip.

* * *

He staggered backwards, but recovered it quickly; shaking his head, he dived behind another snake and waited; she herself didn't stay still: she started running towards where she saw him hiding -after casting a wordless shield around her- and circled him. 'Will you just calm down Camellia? I really didn't mean to call you like that-**you** of all people!'

'Oh yeah? It doesn't make sense if you think everyone like me is garbage but I, that I'm just like them, am better; it is merely illogical and I know you are a very _logical_ man.'

'I told you why I even said that word so why don't you believe me already?' he remarked vehemently; she scoffed.

'Apparently you have gotten used to people believing your every word so when it actually comes down to convincing you have gone a bit rusty, haven't you? Well, allow me to inform you dear Tom that _I_ am no Slughorn.'

'Please listen to me; I am sorry I called you like that, I did not mean to ever say something so vulgar to you. And even if I did sent a spell on you, you have to admit this: I only tried to disarm you; I didn't use any offensive spells…on the contrary of you.' he pleaded yet finished with a scolding look; it wasn't accusatory, angry or annoyed but merely scolding-the same look he would have if dealt with a child that had just done some mischief and knew it was guilty.

Of course, just as soon as he mentioned the last, she flushed immediately; she bit her lip a little guilty but not convinced enough to deactivate the shield. Yet; she was feeling a small tag of regret at the deepest pit of her stomach-they could see it in her eyes. He was a real smooth talker that Tom Riddle was because even though he had called her a mudblood and he even initiated the whole spell fight, she still seemed to debate on letting him off the hook by believing his ludicrous excuses. Was she that thick she would fall for the "it slipped my tongue because I hear it all the time" and the "I was only using defensive spells" theory?

* * *

_Come on girl, get away from him! He will grow to be the world's most renounced muggle-hater! Do while you still have the chance, don't fall for his trick; of course he meant to call you a mudblood; of course he didn't use only defensive-…oh my god, wait a minute. He did only use defensive spells! Not a single offensive one-not even a "Crucio"…! What. Is wrong with him? She doesn't have any sort of special ability or anything-she is not even a prefect for Merlin's sake!_

Harry was thinking all of these in a crazy rhythm, punctuated by his rapid heart-beat, his head felt like he was dying and source of it all was his throbbing scar; he couldn't believe that even after all these years and with Voldemort gone, he still felt what Voldemort felt, even in a memory. _No, it can't be, this is ridiculous…I t hurts because I think it does, not the other way round._

His head now starting hurting from all the possibilities he was thinking about Tom and the girl: she liked him, that much was evident from whatever they had seen up till now. No; if he had to be completely honest, the way she still stayed close to him even when having the relationship they did, then it was deeper-much deeper than "like"; this even might have been unadulterated love. Poor thing, she didn't know she was but means to a goal… Maybe she turned a blind eye to a couple of the signs presented to her but Myrtle still hadn't died so he was definite they would grow apart then.  
Yet, young Tom seemed to like the company of the certain girl as he even went as far as doing homework with her; did he really think she was worth it even if she was a muggle born or did he hang out with her so his reputation wouldn't be bad? After all he needed to be friends with everyone-he even had friends in Gryffindor an almost impossible task for a Slytherin.

* * *

'Look, I'm relinquishing my wand-' Tom's statement was accompanied by the said wand flying to her feet '-and I'm coming out without any tricks, I swear. And if you still feel like hurting me, fine; I will not resist.'

She, even if she did look guilty, absolutely was no victim; they could see that because she kept her wand raised, an evaluative stare boring the place the boy was hiding as if searching behind it for his head and access to his brain. She finally made up her mind.

'Very well; come out slowly and be careful! Not any sudden movements, savvy?'

He did exactly as she told him, his hands not raised but not down-they were maybe ten inches away from his robes. 'Now you believe me?' he asked with cautious confidence –a little smile playing, too- and he was sort of stating it, not asking it.

But the girl's expression –as soon as Tom made his appearance- turned into a stern one and neither did she smile for him; she only furrowed her brows and replied in return a cold: 'Not just yet;** Lashio**!'

He didn't move an inch -disregarding his surpise- and the spell hit him full force; he almost _flew_ backwards, rolling on the floor and a huge bloody trail appeared all the way from his right cheek to his left leg...when they got to see him when he staggered back up after he had landed on his face. Even though it didn't bleed out, it was there and apparently it must have hurt like hell as he couldn't keep his balance for over a minute.

* * *

And the three of them had expected Camellia to just accept his conditions and just leave before he could reach his wand –in fear she may get hit again if he changed his mind- but she didn't. Instead, she did the cruelest thing she could do in these circumstances: she hit him, a wand-less surrendered man, square in the chest. Not that Harry or Ron minded a lot as he was an abusive sadistic bastard himself but it was still weird for them; they'd never done something similar. Hermione even went as far as looking away and shrieking; no matter what, she couldn't look at it directly, it was cruel and not to her taste seeing people getting tortured –being a victim of torture once herself- because technically, that's what she did. She was now torturing him, if she had figured out the spell correctly.

Had Tom thought that, too-did he consider her that gullible she wouldn't go through with his offer? Is that why he didn't have time to react-because he was too stunned? How could they know?

When he finally stabilized himself, he tried to walk; another minute passed and he could walk in a –barely- straight line again so he slowly and steadily went back to his original spot, hands still parted at the sides.  
They were all left chin-dropped; had he just gone back there so he would be easier tortured? And he was even smiling! That was not the lord Voldemort they knew-they thought he was sadistic, not masochistic too.

* * *

As soon as Camellia saw the whole thing, her face froze; as soon as he returned to his previous place though she rushed to cover the few meters parting them. When she reached him, like expecting her to do so, he collapsed in her arms; more or less frightened, she hastened to ease his fall and then embraced him as to keep his head at the level of her bosom.

'Has that last "Lashio" turned you completely mental? Why the bloody hell did you walk all the way here for?' she asked as if she had just witnessed a fight between him and a third party who had just walked away, and not as if she'd done it herself.

* * *

Their minds had now been officially turned by her words into blenders; was she for real?

* * *

Tom smiled. 'I thought you were the one who did this, why are you barking?' his voice came out tired, pained yet humorous; was it their idea or did this man have the most morbid sense of humour they had ever seen?

'I was only testing you I didn't mean to make you worse! Prat!'

'With such force behind the spell I figured you wanted me to be in pain, so…'

'Oh shut it, you called me a mudblood…and you need to be taken to the hospital wing; come on.'

'First you whip me and then you tend to the very wounds you inflicted…? You have serious issues.' he snapped still humorously as she hoisted him up.

'Me? What about you? You offered to get _whipped_.'

Oh dear merlin; he was developing masochistic tendencies after all.

'Yes, because only that way would you be convinced-by actions. My words didn't get through to you and because I know how much you love violence I assumed this would help. But you didn't have to go through with it you know…'

'You don't offer unless you're prepared to deliver; if not, you aren't serious about it. I had to make sure you were serious about it or else you'd be lying. And you're right it did help. But the problem, bottom mind, is that you were prepared to get whipped. You could have suggested something different just so you know you lunatic.'

'Yet you scotched me!'

'You could have offered another kind of act of good faith; I only took what I was given.'

'…We can be at this all day.'

'I agree, let's just go there silently.'

* * *

**A/N**: Oh my...This felt like it was waiting its turn to be published for so long! Well, here it is; pease leave some feedback before you push that "x" button ^^


	13. A tough break

**A/N**: Picking up where we had left off; they have just had their first real fight...And Tom is hurt because he is a little manipulative masochistic prat so they are heading to the infirmary. Oh! And just for a little variety I made the nurse be a guy ^^ I always wanted to see a guy as a nurse in the Harry Potter series so I'm making one (considering I have no idea who was the nurse during Voldie's time)!

* * *

She was hoisting him as they made their way out of the Chamber of secrets –very carefully not to be seen- and started walking to the hospital wing; whilst their travel there were many eyes watching them utterly baffled or scared. When they finally reached their destination though and the nurse saw them, he was left shocked. 'Wha-why is he…who in earth would _whip_ him?' was the first thing he managed to say.

He didn't lose a moment though; as shocked as he was he dashed to the cupboard and searched for the right sort of treatment.

'I did it.' Camellia admitted a bit apathetically as she watched the nurse almost flying all over, summoning some ointments and discarding them for not being those he was looking for.

He finally found the right one and hastened to treat him. But he didn't fail to snort at the girl. 'You? You expect me to believe you were the one who whipped him-the one who brought him to get treated? Besides I have seen you two together in here when either he or you was the patient.' he gave Camellia a drawn-out stare but when he saw her expression being the now usual bored look of hers, he changed tactics. 'Say I believe you; why would you do it?'

'He told me to do so in order to believe he was telling the truth…'

'Oh please! He _offered to get whipped_-that's ridiculous! Riddle, do say who did this to you, will you?'

He was watching the exchange interested; she had gone that far as to admit she did it? And she even gave the true reason and insisted on it even if the nurse thought she was wrong. That was smart and brave of her. But did she do it on purpose as she knew he wouldn't believe her…or did she just want to be sincere?

'…She didn't do it, ignore her, sir please; that annoying Ravenclaw friend of hers Michael Jades did it because I told him the truth: she is not in love with him. Of course he's going to deny it by saying all sorts of stories –just as he made her do _**the same**_ with a spell he casted on her that prevents her to say the truth. Please go tell headmaster about it…'

'Wh-no! No, don't listen to him, I wasn't hit by any kind of spell; we weren't nowhere near Michael the last hour!' she snapped, head going from left to right in all speeds yet not failing to glare at him.

'See sir; she's desperate to let us know she's lying-look at how she acts.'

'_**No**_…! Look; no matter what I say since you weren't there sir he can prove me wrong; Tom is a very manipulative and calculative person like that and he and Michael always fight over _everything_ so-'

'Of course we do; he's always so annoying! I'm talking to you and he comes, interrupting me and taking you away like he owns you and you can't say anything because I bet he threatens you!'

'No he doesn't; and you just described what **you** always do!'

'See sir? She can't say the truth; she keeps saying everything the other way round! I swear I fear for her sometimes; I even fear he might have done something to her…'

'Like what?' he asked immediately shocked; all the while he seemed to believe **Tom**'s story.

'What? No! He's lying! And if I didn't do it then how do I know you were hit with a spell of my own invention called Lashio?' she kept on fervently, hands gesturing and punctuating vividly her words. But too bad for her, those kind of gestures could be mistaken for the exact opposite, just as Tom had suggested.

'What does your spell do?' the suspicious nurse asked immediately; he seemed much more inclined to believe Tom than Camellia and he showed it any way possible.

'Isn't it obvious? It whips the opponent like an actual whip; its power varies according to the will of the wand-bearer. I invented it with _you_ in mind so stop accusing Michael for no reason!'

'Of course you know it and what it does because you invented it with _him_ in mind; he's a very…' he looked like he was searching for the word 'straight forward man, sir. Sometimes, I've seen him being **too **close to her and she didn't like it one bit sir.' He turned to her now looking sympathetic. 'And of course you "hit me" in the context you fired the spell; but it was intended for him all the while! He deflected it so it will hit me thus he did it! You are innocent.'

'Ugh! Stop twisting everything around! I meant-'

'I've heard enough!' the nurse bellowed, unable to take it anymore. Both looked at him with the same expectancy. 'I will make sure this young man is interviewed by headmaster Dippet just as you asked Tom. And I hope you will be fine Camellia and should he ever do something to you tell me immediately. Now if you'll excuse me children.'

With that he left fast as the wind and they both knew he was headed straight to the headmaster's office.

* * *

'Tom you arse! You are such a lying insufferable git! Why did you lie to him? Why did you tell him something so random-how could you bring Michael in the middle of this?'

'…he did try to stop me today; he shouldn't have messed with me.'

Her blood boiled again and she was about to burst.

'Of course, you prat, we had homework to do! You just barged into Ravenclaw common room and tried to force me away; of course he would try to make me stay! Besides I slapped you for that, too!'

'Nonsense, you are different; he shouldn't have meddled in our affairs.'

'You just don't like him!' she accused and every fibre of her being screamed of it; her stance, her tone, even her eyes boring into his intensely. He, on the other hand, looked like he had just heard something that was granted.

'But of course; that's the point!'

Her rage piqued…and then she did it again: small consecutive hits anywhere she found visible –but the head-: arms, chest, and back. He still found it amusing; the small turned into wide a smirk and he finally grabbed her hands when a slap escaped and lost its target even if he wasn't trying to avoid her.

He twisted them outward a little so it would hurt; then forcefully he drove her all the way to the nearest wall, slamming her on her back. He pinned her wrists there, too at the same shoulder level he was holding them and even though he didn't close the four-inch space between them, he leaned to her.  
She was shocked by what he'd just _dared_ do –wasn't he the one who didn't really like physical contact- but when his nose almost touched hers, her owl-widened eyes turned into slits…after she looked away redder than blood. She was pouting but she wasn't actually fighting back…

'Leggo, you're hurting me.' she said in a voice coloured with anger instead of pain.

All the while he remained amused but now they could see question in his eyes. 'Why aren't you fighting back?' yet his voice betrayed he did have a sneaky suspicion on why she didn't; her blushing and looking away again only gave a boost to his arrogance.

'You won't let go off me until you feel like it, currently I **can't** reach my wand and I **can't** overpower you as I have tried and failed numerous times in the past in other sorts of situations. So will you kindly let go-it sort of hurts? I don't want to be bruised and give more "proof" Michael did anything to me.'

Well, no one ever said she wasn't smart or good at lying because she looked apathetic again -maybe the weather report would be much more intense than that look on her face- but he knew, he must have known by now, that she was actually ashamed; her chest going up and down slower yet in bigger moves proved that much. Still he didn't do what she asked of him; quite the contrary, he squeezed harder as if making a point. She winced but that only put a bigger smirk on his face.

'I said you're hurting me, you sadistic prat!'

'Good; this is but a little taste of what that…man will suffer if he keeps butting in where he's not supposed to. So go make him understand this: if he doesn't leave you alone, those sorts of things will keep happening to him -detentions out of nowhere, bad reputation- and if he dares interfere ever again he will find himself in unfathomable' he squeezed a little more; she clenched her teeth 'pain. Registered yet?'

He was pretty much threatening her but he was close enough to make her shiver and seductive enough to be mistaken for courting; it was plainly cruel watching it happen yet they just couldn't take their eyes off of them.

'I will not be intimidated!' she spat and truly she did sound like she wasn't just talk; Tom kept his smirk but loosened the grip on her hands, stopping the pain but not releasing her. She looked defenceless but somehow strong; she was probably the sole human being to get away with half the things she got away with.

'My dear, the warning is meant for him;' his voice frighteningly mellow '_he_ is the one who should be intimidated. You will just, indirectly enough, give him the warning- a cold shoulder if you like. If he is warned and he doesn't stop then he's the one at fault… but if you don't tell him nor you ignore him because you think I will not follow through with my threat then the fault will be _all yours_.'

* * *

He was dead serious; his voice was "pleasant" but dark; his eyes had taken a certain deep shade –almost red somewhere there- that scared her yet she couldn't look away. She knew he would naturally follow through with the threats -he always did- so this was as scary as it was demented because this was the first time he made **that** sort of threat. The guy had issues with a lot of things and he acted as if because he was her friend, he also owned her from the get-go…but this was just ridiculous. OK, maybe, just maybe, there was some physical attraction and generally some spark between them –which was probably why she didn't kick him all the times her leg was about to move instinctively- but that didn't mean she belonged to him and she definitely couldn't stand for that. 'Tom Marvolo Riddle-'

'You're using my full name; this will be serious.'

'Don't interrupt me damn it…! As I was saying, Tom Marvolo Riddle, don't you dare threaten my friends; do you have any idea how difficult it is for me? You hexed poor Jamie and you almost got Hector _expelled-_!'

'It's not my fault most of your friends are male and stupid now is it? Have you seen me ever threatening Julia or Joan?'

'I will be friends, talk to and socialize with whoever I please as it's **none** of your business; I am not someone you can bully around! And what is that supposed to mean? Is there a problem I click better with boys?'

'You shouldn't be in the presence of so many men on the first place but especially if you're my friend then none of those low-lives will dare to talk back to me-I haven't done anything to Jean! Humph! Going as far as trying to hex me, that Michael; he is lucky **not** to get expelled.'

'You cannot be _thinking_ to accuse him-'

'Yes I am; I like that you know what I'm planning to do before I do it-makes things much easier. So now go tell that lap dog of yours to keep as far away from you as possible so we'll _all_ be satisfied, alright? Be a good girl.'

He finished; but when he did, he also did the weirdest thing they had ever seen him do in his whole -known- life…after he'd stared at her for a split second, he leaned deeper in, missing her swollen parted lips by a hair, and his own landed on her right cheek.

…Voldemort had just kissed a girl on the cheek!

Their chins dropped, thoroughly shocked; they couldn't believe their eyes!  
They leaned closer to see and see what was happening: Voldemort had pressed against her cheek but a moment, yet it was enough for him to sense her high temperature and even helped it rise a bit more. Now he could feel her anger -that could easily be mistaken for attraction- that rushed through and made her shake; he could feel it as he was holding her and he enjoyed it as he was watching her.  
He could even relate to those feelings of hers in a degree; she made him so mad that he just wanted to hex her all the way to next Sunday, or maybe throttle her right then and there… but that meant she made his own temperature rise significantly and it also made him shake with anger.  
But why didn't he just kiss her? It wasn't that big of a deal –feelings and other silly notions as those didn't affect him- and if she liked him as much as he though she did then it would be a **huge** deal to her; that way he _could_ hurt her when he'd pretend nothing happened or just call it a mistake. And he wasn't a man to be seduced by women –only power, if she was considered a female- and he never really cared about stuff like that…  
But he always ended up in the places he knew he'd find her; he always barged in her dormitory and whisked her away; he always… **desired** her presence, in lack of a better word. And, as the years went by, that desire grew instead of dying out as he'd originally hoped.

And he also hoped the girl wouldn't feel the _very brief_ surge of excitement he felt at the thought of touching her; it was freaky how he found himself shivering by her breath –that was coming out in short rushed pants- or how much it aroused him to know _**he**_ was the cause of it…He was a selfish and sadistic creature after all and the idea of him being the cause of the breathing difficulty of the certain headstrong muggle-born was an achievement all in itself. Or maybe that was the sole reason he shivered on the first place. Yes, that was it.

But this had got to stop; the kiss ended -not abruptly but shortly- as those thoughts went through the teen's head in only a matter of seconds- and he peered at her face closely. He smirked at the violent blush of her cheeks or the confused, almost lost, look on her face.

And then he let her go.

* * *

It seemed like ages to both but it was only a moment later when Camellia looked away annoyed; obviously she didn't take well to being manhandled. Well, who could blame her?

'I will not intimidate anyone _for_ you; if you want to do it then do it yourself. But in case you haven't noticed I happen to like my friend thus I'll be keeping a sharp eye. See you around Tommy.'

The blushing still on her cheeks as she made her last statement she turned around, tightened her fists –one would swear she was trying to control herself and not punch him- and stomped off. He just stayed there, looking something between arrogant yet doubtful of her obedience as he watched her shrinking into the hall.

* * *

All this time, she'd secretly been wishing he would follow her outside to try and stop her or maybe say something similar to an apology –his behaviour was deemed rather unexpected and intolerable by Camellia- but he didn't do so. Well, she already knew him and he would never do something even close to that, so she'd learnt long ago; but no one ever said wishful thinking was out of the question.  
And, thinking about it as she walked, how _dared_ he kiss her like that when he was the one who established the physical distance between them on the first place? Going as far as shaking her and slamming her against a wall and then kissing her, the imposing moody git…!  
And she didn't like it at all; she didn't like it one bit…she only blushed because she was a bashful and humble human being –_yeah right_- so he had stepped over some lines and under no circumstances did she enjoy it or think it was sort of sexy to see him so lively and so passionate about something.  
Wait, did she think sexy; no, wrong choice of words-why and when did she even start thinking of him as sexy? Well, he was 16 years old now, just a year before he becomes a full adult and he was tall and handsome and everything, but he'd always been so. On the other hand he was much more charming now…even if he was a tad more dangerous and scary sometimes or imposing; he always wanted and seemed to get people to do as he'd said but it was plainly ridiculous he'd think she'd do the same just because everyone else he knew did so, too. After all she was his friend!

'I'll be watching you!' he shouted before she completely disappears.

'You always are!' she snapped without even turning around and then disappeared as she took the left turn of the hall.

He only warned her from afar- he didn't have the decency to do so in person, because he was probably concerned they'd fight again and she didn't even look back as she was concerned herself...but of a different matter: she was concerned he'd see her disappointment he didn't and never ran after her…or the actual feeling of coming closer to him. She had no idea why but she thought that this side of him –the forceful demanding one- that he displayed so openly for the very first time (at least to her) was his true self. It was the one we all have, our real self, our real view on life that we kindly keep a little supressed due to various social contracts and habits and only let it out with people we feel more comfortable with.  
Why she was so inexplicably happy he was being a huge arse with her just because it meant he was comfortable and relaxed around her she didn't understand. After all people shouldn't  
be happy one is threatening or try to threaten them even if that is their true nature, because that only means his true nature is a…well, bad one, in all honesty. But she couldn't accept that; not for Tom Marvolo Riddle, everyone's pride and joy, her very own Tommy…  
But he did call her a mud-blood and cursed her when her back was turned and then threatened her after being an imposing bastard by even hitting her against a wall…But he apologized very convincingly for the first two –and he hadn't even really cursed her- and the rest were all because he was being jealous of Michael all which she found very ego-striking.

Um…maybe from Tom's point of view it wasn't jealousy, but a test-a test of obedience; she had to do as he said and that was that. But even if he knew she would possibly never do it, he at least made clear his intentions: she shouldn't be affiliating with Michael because that mud-blood loving prat would put ideas in her head and he just didn't want that kind of influence around her. And he could disguise it as him being jealous of him; Julia would have to get rid of with a different tactic, as well as with the rest of her friends who weren't to his standards. If he was spending that much time with her only because she served his goal –and he happened to find her company enjoyable and tolerable enough for a mud-blood- then she would have to meet some of his standards as far as her social circle was concerned.

He chuckled; he had just done all these terrible things to her and she was still not back-slapping him until her hand hurt or curse him as she did when he called her a mud-blood; he had completely convinced her it was all someone else's fault. If this kept up then he was sure she would never suspect him for the upcoming attacks that were to be unleashed on the school.  
Marvellous…And now that the pro-phase was complete -as he had convinced her to take the vow thus he was sure she would put up with stuff like that from now on- and everything was going according to plan (that kiss **never** happened or if it did it was somehow _also _according to plan) it was about time he started killing off her kind… and no one would suspect him **because** of her.  
Thinking about it, he came to the frightening conclusion she was in fact the most helpful and faithful amongst his subjects (because she had the _ridiculous_ idea they actually were friends) withougt even knowing about it...so he simply had had to buy her something nice.

* * *

The last thing they saw was the dark twinkling in his eyes as he was considering his future plans and all that had happened until then that enabled him to do so; everything became a blur once more and they returned to their present where he was nothing more but a memory.

They looked at one another for but a second; 'Let's get to the rest of the memories before we start commenting, shall we?' Hermione was the first one to speak.

The boys obviously liked the proposition and immediately agreed on it, nodding vigorously, and watched her as she eagerly turned the pages to reach the one with the next pouch attached to it; she found it almost immediately and they dived in the pensive with her as soon as she poured the memory in.

When the darkness had dissolved, they looked around them and saw they were inside another classroom, but this one they had no trouble recognizing: it was Slughorn's and an exact copy of the sixth year potions classroom, too.

* * *

It was a Slytherin-Ravenclaw joined lesson again and they could see the students were impatiently glancing towards the exit; they were standing right next to the young Voldemort, who was at the far end of the class over his cauldron (that he shared with Malfoy) so they could watch the rest of the students and Slughorn himself much easier. Tom was glancing somewhere constantly, too but they noticed it wasn't the door, like everyone else…it was the two people in front of the cauldron _closest _to the exit: Camellia and a guy they had never seen before dressed in Ravenclaw robes. He must have been her classmate or a friend and they were surprised to see it wasn't Michael (Tom's threats must have paid off after all); he was as short as her, black hair and blue eyes, and he was very slim and weak-looking.

'I'm sorry I kept you after class; off you go now!' the many years younger professor said (making all three jump) and immediately everyone started gathering their things to leave the soonest possible.

But what drew everyone's attention, even Slughorn's for that matter –and made the three redirected their attention there, too- was a bolt of black and blue that rushed to leave first, covering a small distance from her cauldron to the door: Camellia had almost sprinted as soon as she'd heard the professor dismissing them, leaving everything behind.

'Miss Adams, you forgot your-…'

But Slughorn didn't get to finish his sentence because even if she had heard him –and the teacher was sure of it- she didn't stop to listen; Hermione turned to see Tom and she realized he had been following Camellia's escape with the edge of his eyes and looked rather displeased to see her react that way, displeased and troubled.

'Sir, she has left the assignment you'd asked of her to me, here it is.' her partner said and gave the roll of parchment to Slughorn in her stead. 'She says she's terribly sorry but she had to see headmaster Dippet about something very urgent and she'll be explaining everything to you in detail another time.'

Tom was now looking twice troubled and displeased and there was a bit of worry in there, too; why would she have gone to headmaster Dippet for? Was it related to what he showed and told her, pertinent with the Chamber of secrets? Then again, should she reveal anything she'll die thus she can't really speak…but she could say something to bring Tom in the spotlight?  
And Tom had noticed, ever since the attacks began in the school, she had suddenly stopped meeting with him after class or in the presence of less than two people beside herself while gradually she stopped talking to him altogether. She would stop making comments about him –like she always did- in the classes they had together or she wouldn't try to correct him or be righteously indignant to what he was saying during those classes. She wouldn't even speak out of turn to the professors and lately the more she saw him and watched how he socialized with his Slytherin peers the whiter she'd get. Plus she had lost a lot of weight in a relatively small period of time and her eyes always had circles under them; of course she was never seen without at least two friends, one always of the same dormitory and one always a guy.  
But what concerned Tom even more was that for the last two days, when the latest attack took place, she has been avoiding him by literally running away from him every time they had a lesson together. The situation wasn't looking beneficiary for him and he definitely had to make up –"make up" as a manner of speech, he didn't regard her as a friend- with Camellia, sooner better than later. Of course Camellia herself never really accused him of being responsible for the attacks... but her behaviour certainly told him that much.

'Thank you mister McAllister but I would appreciate it if she was the one saying these…'

'…' the McAllister boy didn't know what else to say and merely shrugged…and then proceeded to glance furtively at Tom; but too bad for the boy, Tom caught his eye and gestured with a nod to wait for him outside the classroom.

* * *

He was a fool, Tom thought, not to avoid eye-contact with him; Camellia was slowly yet steadily reducing eye-contact during classes or meals at the great hall until two days ago it completely disappeared. But the boy obviously didn't put that much effort into it and truly, he must have been very angry at himself he hadn't done so because he looked very annoyed when Tom reached him a moment later.

'What do you want then?' the boy tried not to sound too sour but not too amiable.

'I-… Abraxas, Stewart why don't you two wait over there for a while? I need to speak with James in private.' he said as soon as he realized his followers had followed him-…well, it was in their blood after all, he couldn't blame them but still shooed them away. (_Hum…James? He might have been the Jamie Camellia was referring to in the previous memory that got hexed. _Harry thought.)

* * *

When they were safely out of earshot, Tom looked at James again. 'I know you and I don't know each other very well and at times like this I wish we did because then at least you'd tell me what's really wrong with Camellia.'

James looked away a little uncomfortable but didn't say anything; when he finally looked back, he sighed. 'There is nothing "wrong" with her, please don't phrase it that way.'

'Then why did she just disappear like that?'

'Didn't you hear when I told Slughorn: she's off to meet headmaster.'

'I did and I was surprised to see Slughorn believed you, seeing you are a terrible liar; she is nowhere near headmaster Dippet. So where is she?'

'…' he looked away again, clearly uncomfortable and a bit awkward; he tried to leave but Tom stopped him.

'I understand you are her friend and you're trying to protect her; I'd lie, too if I were you. But I am currently not in the position to do so thus as her friend, try to understand another and do kindly tell me where she's at, I'm worried. She hasn't been able to talk to me for almost three weeks now…'

The bastard was still playing his role perfectly: the heart-broken neglected friend who only wants to get his friend back even if she shuns him; he was giving an amazing performance, all three thought, as he looked and sounded sad yet demanding. James considered.

'She didn't tell me where she'd be going because she said if she did then you'd definitely get it out of me and she didn't want you to find her; I know she's been very distant the past weeks but I think it's not _your_ fault…' James went closer and looked around with caution not to be heard 'but theirs.' he continued, using his eyes to point at Malfoy and Lestrange.

'Theirs?' Tom asked pleasantly surprised; he almost sounded, too so he mentally shook himself and took the tone he wanted to use on the first place. 'So it's not me?'

'Well…even if she's avoiding you she started doing so when she started watching you with them; she said she didn't want to be alone with you when your pure-blooded gits for friends –and I'm quoting her on that- were around you. I think she fears they may be the ones responsible for the attacks on the students and…I frankly believe she fears not to be next…'

Tom was even more surprised –but was smart enough not to let it show this once-; did she really fear that and had suspected not of him being the victor-was he giving her wits too much credit? Or was it that this person here had her all wrong? He wished it was the first but something deep inside him told him it was probably the second or maybe a mixture of the two.

He sighed with relief; 'You're a life saver, thanks a bunch; I'll go look for her... alone.' he said and winked at him at the last word; James smiled gratefully Tom had kept his voice down. 'Hey guys, you go on ahead to the dormitory; I have something to do first.' Tom said, not even bothering to go to the two purebloods who awaited him, but they had already planned so from the start so they only nodded.  
He immediately left; he had arranged to catch one of her friends after class –seeing she always sat the closest to the exit on purpose since she knew he wouldn't sit closer to her because it wouldn't be his normal behaviour and people would notice- but he had never expected such a development. He really wished James's words were true but he knew they weren't thus there was only one place he would find her if she really thought what he thought she did: Dumbledore's office.

* * *

**A/N**: I think Tom's hunches are right; a frightened little girl, where else could see go than the one person who she looks up to the most? But what will happen there? Care to find out? Keep reading ^^ And please leave a review =3


	14. Doubts

**A/N**: I'm back with a new chapter! Yay; hope you enjoy! Ad oh my God it's an M rated one-the first M rated one, wow! Actually it isn't anything too tragic just to be on the safe side due to a death and some blood and all...

* * *

He headed to the transfiguration teacher's office without a moment's pause to rethink his strategy; he would knock, Dumbledore would grant him entrance and if the girl was inside he'd see her -thus make sure she was there- and then wait for her outside…he would love to eavesdrop on them but he knew Dumbledore was at least smart enough to know how to protect against that; nevertheless, an attempt to do so wouldn't hurt.  
So he reached the old man's office and took a deep breath; as soon as he was about to knock on the door he realized delighted that the door was open! And what's more, he could see inside and listen to what was happening from there! He leaned in and saw Camellia seated in the chair opposite Dumbledore's; she was looking grim and sleepless. Dumbledore was speaking to her at the moment and looked sympathetic and friendly; but Tom couldn't catch everything he was saying to the young woman, so he tried harder to hear by leaning deeper in, careful not to be caught.

'Once a peeping Tom, always a peeping Tom.' Ron stated watching the young Voldemort; he shook his head and followed his wife and best friend inside theheadmaster's office in order to have a better view.

* * *

As Tom went closer and they entered the room they heard Dumbledore's words: '…agree Miss Adams?'

But Camellia didn't answer nor speak to the professor (_such bad manners_, Hermione thought); she looked down, more weary than they had ever seen her. Actually, they can't remember seeing her like that ever before! She usually was full of life or terribly bored yet vigorous; now she was...drained. She looked like someone had literally sucked all life out of her during the night-even a vampire biting her wouldn't cause such a difference and considering the last time they saw her it was a minute ago, the difference was eye-poking. She must have lost about twelve pounds since they last saw her and gotten no sleep for at least three days; her eyes were swollen and as if she was crying (_I recognize that look on her face_, Hermione recalled sadly, remembering the times she would cry her eyes out over something that happened -that usually centred around Ron.)

'I asked you a question Miss Adams: don't you agree with the concept one should be judged according to their actions rather than their words?'

Tom must have thought they were indirectly referring to him because when they all glanced at him, they saw him getting red by anger.

'I agree with that sort of notion sir but I also believe it is rather cruel and unfair not to consider of their actions **and** their words to judge them; I believe a distinction shouldn't be made so effortlessly.' she finally replied, under the pressure of Dumbledore's gaze; she sounded a little defiant in the end but always kept a polite tone –even if she was tired-.

'…I believe you are a person who tolerates things they shouldn't, always according to your own ethics; you would never do the things you have accepted from other people yet you keep protecting them.'

Tom went purple; he was very close at storming right in and defend himself from these ridiculous accusations he was making!

'Is there someone in particular on your mind when saying all of these to me sir?' Camellia spoke for him first protecting him even now from his own wild and easily angered nature. He cursed himself under his breath for his haste but thanked his luck for not blowing his cover; then he reconsidered. It wasn't his luck but himself he should be thanking, for not acting on it after all (and if one part of himself thought it should be Camellia, he smothered it).  
Oh bollocks; he really did have temper issues! But if he was as slick as he thought -and he must have had the correct idea considering everyone did as he'd said- then how could he do it with such anger problems?

'…who did your mind travel to? Then that is the one I was referring to.' Dumbleore kept speaking his wisdom; she went red.

'That's a trap-question sir!' she accused light-heartedly looking away and made an effort to laugh; she managed but it sounded odd even to her so she stopped.

'You are worn out; what is it that is making such a lively girl so tired?'

She blushed but looked the much older man eye-to-eye; she gulped. 'I fear sir; it has to do with the attacks on the muggle-borns.'

'…'

* * *

He sat back in his chair and looked at her over his glasses with the same scanning look he gave all he believed they were hiding something and he knew it. 'How is your relationship with Tom at the moment miss Adams?' he asked ultimately as he positioned his hands on the office in front of him, interwined.

'What does that have to do with anything?' she asked suspiciously, without a hint of awkwardness in her voice; Dumbledore still smiled though.

'It has everything to do with everything; answer the question please.'

Tom tensed up completely; now he'd finally get some insight on why she's been acting like that for the past month –roughly-.

'I am…reluctant to meet him as of late; I think I am growing a little bit afraid of him and his friends. You can say we are going through a tough time in our friendship but-…oh I don't know how to say this…' she said in the end looking uncomfortable nervous even and looked away. She started tapping her foot on the chair -she couldn't reach the ground as the chair was too tall and big for her-.

'Take your time my dear; use the words that come from your heart.' Tom was close to vomiting.

She considered; she looked at him again. 'I have been feeling that Tom and I have never…-I mean, we are friends, but we aren't; I feel like our "friendship" ended a couple of years ago and now we just have an odd way of communicating: not friends but not anything else. It's weird…and the oddest thing of all is that I am not being insecure and think "oh he doesn't like me anymore" but it's his own behaviour that translates to that…! Am I making any sense?' she asked in the end worried she might have been speaking gibberish; the professor smiled. Tom though didn't smile at all; she was quite the perceptive one, wasn't she? He had no idea she had seen this much and if she had then what was she still doing with him? Now he was the nervous one.

'What you're telling me is making perfect sense; go on.'

'Well, that; I don't fear him but ever since the attacks began…I feel uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with him in that dormitory; everyone is looking at me like saying in their heads: "you'll be the next one" and Tom doesn't seem to do anything about it! I just feel he dislikes muggle-borns himself but bears with me for an unfathomable reason-maybe because we know each other for so long… Do you think I'm being too strict with him?'

Dumbledore, who watched her speak interested, chuckled-always politely. 'How funny; I was about to ask you the exact opposite.' he said meaningfully; she bit her lower lip guiltily.

'That would be my next question sir…' she admitted, making Dumbledore laugh this once, still politely.

'Why would one person be the cause of such contradicting feelings to you Miss Adams? As far as I've seen you with people you always made up a mind about them very fast-I daresay you decided I was worthy of your admiration in only one lesson! What's so special about _him_?'

'It just feels like…every time I see him there's something different about him, something new and I have to make up a mind about it; it's very odd but at the same time very intriguing I guess…' suddenly she turned a little pink. 'I am so sorry for troubling you with my ridiculous ravings professor, dunno why I am even saying all these things to you-I haven't even told Jules and she's my best girlfriend…!' she said and tried to stand.

Just as Dumbledore was about to say something comforting –judging from his face- to her, she suddenly went very pink. 'Um, when I said girlfriend I didn't mean like girlfriend like I would mean boyfriend, I only meant a friend who is a girl and happens to be my best friend; I am attracted to men!' she specified; Dumbledore smiled beside himself and tried to reassure her again but she went even redder. 'Not that I meant being a woman who is attracted to a woman –or a man to a man- is something bad but I just don't swing that way…! Ugh! That came out wrong, too-what am I even saying-?' she kept on worried and tried to pick herself up and leave but then she stopped once again just as he shook his head trying to speak for the umpteenth time but the girl interrupted him, being redder than a tomato. 'Not that I'd meant you'd mind with people being gay in your school, you're a very open-minded person so-I mean-um-I-.'

_She's a smooooooth talker this one_, Tom thought amused from the outside while he was almost laughing; but the three friends were laughing, enjoying this girl's awkwardness and issue of a bad choice of words.

'Relax Miss Adams I understood fully well what you meant and what you didn't mean; now sit down and let's get back to the real subject.' she sat down as if she was Imperio-ed into it. 'Why haven't you told any of your peers about this?'

'…I don't want them to think Tom did something to me-he truly hasn't, ever; this is but a gut-feeling I have lately that I think it started developing two years ago. I am 16 years old now and I am almost an adult so I want to stand correct with my assessments and not present mere hunches as proof of anything.'

'Yet hunches are most of the times verified later by facts miss Adams; I know you know this as you mostly react on them.'

She blushed; why was she having such a conversation with Dumbledore and why all that he'd said so far sounded not only wise and accurate but also targeted to Tom? And why was Dumbledore so cautious with Tom on the first place? Maybe he was partially right given Tom'd found the chamber of secrets and didn't tell anyone –and made her keep it a secret, too- but that didn't mean he was a bad person. Yet something deep inside her stirred when she'd heard about the first attacks on the students. Sure, she did go inside the chamber and didn't see a monster but…if the monster was a snake and Tom spoke in parseltongue then he could have easily lied about what he said to the snake since she wouldn't know the difference. But when did she start consciously and seriously thinking Tom was the one responsible?

…thank god she was looking away from Dumbledore while thinking all of this or he might have read her mind and she was sure the unbreakable vow would take effect, should something like that happen. And then she'd die...  
She shook her head; no matter what she still felt rather weird she was confining all of this to Dumbledore instead of someone her own age so she couldn't help but feel awkward at that and the fact she actually felt so comfortable talking to him about it. After all, she'd never talked about the fears she had for Tom's true nature to anyone so it was almost unnatural she didn't mind talking about him to the professor; maybe it had something to do with his wisdom… She couldn't speak anymore.

* * *

'Don't stay away from him for too long Miss Adams; I think you are amongst the few people that do him good with their presence.' She blinked surprised. 'However have some faith in yourself and do what you think it's best for the both of you.'

She looked at Dumbledore with her tired swollen eyes; he smiled kindly for the last time. 'Now why don't you go find Tom?' he said gesturing at the door. 'I bet you'll run into him _very_ soon.' he said meaningfully; he looked towards the door this once and the three saw he looked directly at Tom!

* * *

Tom looked kind of taken aback –especially as they made eye contact- but didn't go because the girl didn't move further than leaning in (in order to stand up) and almost froze in position. 'How do you know sir?' she asked amused looking to the same place Dumbledore did but Tom managed to hide; she turned back to the man still wondered.

'I just do; call it a hunch if you like! Now go; he is very lucky to have you in his life and let's hope he feels just as proud as I do to have you in my class.'

She chuckled. 'Yeah right…' the professor and the girl exchanged a knowing smile –Tom almost chuckled himself by the absurdity of the statement Dumbledore made- and she finally started leaving. 'Thank you professor; I believe you have the exact idea on how good this was for me. Goodnight.'

'Have a wonderful evening my dear child.'

* * *

Tom disappeared as soon as he saw them saying their goodbyes (with the horrible thought that Dumbledore had been aware of his presence all along and once more he couldn't outsmart him) and headed straight for the second's floor bathrooms; this couldn't have played out better for him. Sure Dumbledore didn't really trust him –that much was obvious even before this conversation- but he had the bad habit of believing in the best of people and apparently so did Camellia as she needed but little urging to go see and talk to him again. Heh; Dumbledore was so naïve; she is one of the few people who do Tom good with their presence? Wrong; Tom's presence does good to other people. Well, in her case it made her worse but for him worse was better so it's pretty much the same thing.  
He was now in front of the sink: he commanded the snake to come out; the sink moved and slowly yet surely the snake was heard coming; it appeared in front of him, of course not looking Tom in the eye. Tom commanded the snake to kill the first mudblood it would encounter but Camellia of course, for technical reasons.

But then it happened…before he realized, he saw that behind him was a young girl, who now stood rigid and motionless as she was looking the huge snake in the eye; before he realized what was happening, the girl fell lifeless on the floor next to him. He looked at her with wide eyes…she had just died!  
He shuddered and couldn't help staring; he had just committed murder-the murder of a…um, right, who was she again? He looked at her face; it was a Ravenclaw girl with pig-tails and she looked small so she must have been a second year. Oh wait; she was a third year, Myrtle...a mudblood. Oh great! Now he had to disappear from this place and maybe put her body somewhere else because when Camellia finds out she died there she might suspect something. So he had to make the snake go, too.

'_Leave now; you did a good job_.' he commanded the snake and as soon as it was out of sight, he also closed the entrance, too; oh damn it! Thank god he had his diary for the Horcrux always with him or else this death would have been a big waste of time!

He opened the empty diary and started chanting, his wand in his hand; he started performing the ritual he'd read: it said that when the process would be finished then he'd know but he was a little worried. Yet he kept chanting…  
But suddenly he felt a pain in his heart; as he chanted the pain only grew stronger and stronger; now he was kneeling, eyes wide shut the pain truly excruciating; he was panting, now clutching the place of his heart with his free hand but didn't stop his spell. If he stopped now, it would all be for nothing-he just had to hang in there for another of couple of minutes…even if they felt like ages due to the horrific pain he was experiencing.  
As the spell came to its pique the pain intensified –if possible- and it hurt him more than anything he'd ever experienced; only then did he realized why people did this only once or twice: the pain was so strong, it might have resembled the pain of death itself.  
But it wasn't just the pain but also the feeling around and inside him; this spell was literally draining him dry of all his life force and he had the fear that that was what it meant to feel like dying: weak, pained and trembling all over, barely able to lift his wand and weakly, almost inaudibly, chant the last of the verses of the spell.

And then it happened! The spell was finished! He realized because he felt his heart was being pulled out of his chest. He collapsed.

'Ugh…' he looked at the diary, now in front of him, and saw satisfied that it had happened…

He took a moment lying down to rest and recover some of his strength; it was a mistake it happened so soon after the final class of the day but since it did and no one was around he might as well just stay there and replenish his lost vigour…and that was a lot that had to be replenished.

The time passed; he could feel himself regaining his strength slowly; his eyes were closed but he could almost see the rays of energy that accumulated in his body. It felt like being in heaven…he opened his eyes; was it an hour or a day later? He could not tell. But he could tell he was feeling much livelier than what felt like a moment ago.  
He stood up -surprisingly- with the first try and shook his head; then he flicked his wand wordlessly and it lit up immediately; great, his magical powers were as sharp as ever. He took his diary and tucked it away in his robes, patting the place he put it securely; now that that was finished, there was nothing else he couldn't do!

He went to check on Myrtle for a last time; it wouldn't do to see that instead of separating a part of his soul he had accidentally transferred some of it to her thus giving her back her life. He put his hand on her neck, still shaky, to see if she had any pulse and waited…one second, ten seconds, a minute; no pulse, no breath no heart-beat…she was dead for good. He shut his eyes in relief; all was well.

**

* * *

**

CRASH!

* * *

His eyes snapped open; it sounded like something made of glass had hit the floor and broke, followed by something else, something heavy. He didn't see anything right away but as he looked around he saw it: at the entrance of the bathroom, there was standing Camellia Adams in all of her over-surprised glory. Her eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets and what had crushed on the floor was a vial filled with some potion he couldn't quite understand at the moment and her books were lying scattered on the floor. She was so shocked she couldn't speak; her mouth was just opening and closing, unable to produce audible sounds and her hands were rigidly on her side.  
Oh great; of course something had had to go wrong. Nothing could go all right for him and she just had had to walk in the right moment to see him standing over a Ravenclaw girl's dead body. Why? Why now! What could he possibly say to her now to talk his way out of this one?

'Camellia?' he said hesitantly, seeing she was still speechless; she finally snapped out of it, her eyes blinking several times –the tears that welled up inside them finally falling- and she focused on him and the girl. 'Camellia, this is not what it-…'

'Mu-…' she tried to speak for the first time, so he shut it; he made the gesture which meant "repeat". 'M-mu-…murderer…! Y-you murderer! You **murderer**!'

He was shocked. Oh no; she was taking this much worse than he would have ever predicted! He tried to stand up to go to her but his knees were trembling –still feeling weak from before and the surprise from now- so he couldn't really stand; yet, she backed up the moment he tried to go closer to her.

'No Camellia, you-!'

'**You murdered**-**you murder! You killed**-**you killed her**! **You killed Myrtle you** -!' she was in a trance-like state where all she could see was Tom, the body and her version of what might have happened; still she seemed to respond even if not so successfully, and Tom tried to talk to her.

'No I didn't! You don't understand; I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!'

'NO-**you killed her**! **You killed her**!'

He tried to stand, this one he succeeded, and went to her; she immediately stepped several times back, almost exiting the bathroom her head shaking like she was possessed. '**Stay away from me**-**stay **_**the hell**_** away from me**!'

'Camellia, you don't-you're getting this all wrong-!' he said trying to go closer again, still shaking a little but she continued backing up, the same horrified look always plastered on her face.

'Stay…**away from me**!' she shouted and ran away…

* * *

He watched her flight; she had just seen the one thing she was not supposed to see: him standing over Myrtle's dead body…in the second floor bathrooms in front of the entrance of the chamber of secrets. Why did this have to happen, wasn't she supposed not to find him after she left Dumbledore's office and merely wait for him outside of his dormitory? Then why did she find herself there? She couldn't be able to see through him that easily that she was correct to suspect he'd be trying to get to the chamber? Damn her intuition!  
And where was she running to? Surely not to Dumbledore's office…? Oh no; he had to catch up with her before she reached him or else Tom would have a hard time convincing the certain out of all teachers he was innocent. Plus, he would have lost Camellia's support forever should he not make his move immediately!

He took a deep breath; even if he was still weak enough to shake, he put all of his effort in standing up and then dashing after her to the direction he thought she followed if it meant getting to her in time. Of course "in time" here meant before she goes to Dumbledore and tells him of the incident and ruins everything-both for him and between them (as he doubted she'd ever speak to him again if he didn't make a grand gesture right then and there).

* * *

He was running towards Dumbledore's office; he was a hundred per cent sure she would try to find refuge there, in his cosy and friendly room where he had already offered a wing to take her under that same afternoon, not two hours ago. Thinking back now, he couldn't quite believe she was so correct in her assumptions about him and that just because she "felt it" without any actual proof; after all he had only once called her a mudblood and he made up a pretty good excuse about that. Bringing that up, he should probably start thinking about what he'd tell her once he caught up with her in order to convince her; huh…in her current state that would probably be rather difficult. Still…this presented a challenge to him: if he managed to make her believe he was just an innocent bystander –just like her- then he would be sure he could do anything!

He had almost reached Dumbledore's office yet no sign of her still; his heartbeat either from running or from the anxiety –or both- was erratic in a way he had never experienced before: it felt like his heart tried to escape by pounding on his chest with all its might. Where could she be? Yet, he stopped not, not for a single moment; he kept running until he was in front of the old man's office.

He went carefully closer, cross-checking every corridor that lead to it; she was nowhere to be seen. He crept to the half-opened door again and looked inside: there was Dumbledore caressing his phoenix's feathers…all alone. So she hadn't arrived yet. But where was she? Sure he was fast but not that fast to have bypassed her without seeing her…? He stepped back-

'Tom? Why are you standing there? Either come in or go…' the professor said before he managed to walk away; damn old bat! If he knew he was there then he also knew he was already leaving thus he wanted to tell him something. Why now?

'Sorry sir; I thought Camellia was with you and I wanted to speak with her. I am sorry if it appeared I was lurking around.'

'Ah…' he smiled wickedly 'young Miss Adams? Surely you could have spoken to her when she was here earlier…?'

Tom blushed; he didn't know why, but his cheeks felt like they were on fire. Maybe because he had to find Camellia and all this old man was doing was slowing him down and showing off! 'I didn't want her to think I was by any way eavesdropping on her professor.'

'Yet you were…'

'N-no sir, I wasn't!' he was about to protest more but he realized he was now slowing himself down; he cleared his throat, still feeling his cheeks slightly hot. 'With all due respect sir but I must go now; if you'll excuse me.' he stated and turned around to leave.

'Of course you may…' Dumbledore said, before he left, obviously wanting to have the last word. '…but a word of advice Tom: find Miss Adams the soonest possible.'

He looked at Tom suggestively; he shivered. It felt like Dumbledore knew about his doings and urged him to go find her in order to start atoning…or maybe he even knew about Myrtle! No, that was ridiculous. 'Off you go now!' he said in the end, changing the mood completely: from electrified, it became light; he felt thankful for that and disappeared immediately.

* * *

No, this couldn't be happening; Dumbledore was still being inexplicably creepy and annoying while Camellia couldn't be found! He was so angry at himself from actually admitting he got the jives from that old annoying man and that Camellia was nowhere to be seen, he started heading to the most random direction he found, hoping maybe lady luck would –just for once- be on his side…and –just for once- she was!

As soon as he took the third random turn, always to his right, he found her: she was almost completely covered by the shadows of the dark corner she was and her knees were covering her face. She must have been crying, he made the realization, and he found it rather odd because he had never seen her cry before.  
He wanted to go to her as soon as he saw her crouched in the dark corner all alone but he reconsidered; if she'd ran away from him earlier and if her knees are covering her face then she probably wanted to be left alone and to some privacy…thus it'd be much better if he gave her a warning first: at least that way it would be easier for him to convince her he meant no harm.  
He found this very weird; she had never been so emotional in front of him nor so scared before and even if he'd always pictured how that would look like it didn't satisfy him as much as he'd expect. Actually, it hadn't given him any sort of pleasure, only troubles and worries… but what he found to be the strangest of all in this situation was that in fact his first reaction was to go sit next to her, as he saw her there alone and crying, and put a hand on her shoulder; for a brief moment he even forgot he was the cause of it and that he should stay away or at least make himself known, in order not to scare her to death…he felt his skin crawl at the sudden ray of realization that hit him: was he starting to act like…her friend? Oh god…he had spent way too much time around that woman, he should stop while he still had the chance; but that chance was not presented yet. Now he had to convince her.

'Camellia…?' he asked first and then proceeded to approach with caution; she looked up so abruptly and shocked; she jumped a little.

Her face turned completely white, tears drying too fast while she felt a lump in her throat and couldn't speak correctly; her alternative course of action would be to stand up and walk away…but she realized her feet couldn't carry her as they were too shaky. So for now she could only stare frightened. 'Camellia, please say something.'

It's like something inside her snapped; no matter how afraid she was she was not supposed to be timid! She was a brave smart girl who always stood up for herself and others around her and this was the perfect time to do so even if it meant standing up and walking away or hexing him or slapping him…she stood up looking raged; he backed up a little. This was the first time he thought he might have been threatened by someone.

'How _dare you_!' her voice was dripping with poison and the volume started rising again 'I **told** you get **away** from me you-**you disgusting pig**, **you murderer**!' she walked to him, even more threateningly '**Murderer**!' she shouted in his ear, eyes closed.

He momentarily shut his own eyes but then he realized this was his chance! 'Stop shouting Camellia and-!'

'**You murderer**!'

She tried to leave, but he caught her; she fought for her arm's freedom but unsuccessfully.

'Just stop and listen to what-!'

'Shut _**up**_ and **let go** of me, **now**! I **don't** want to hear **your excuses** or **your lies**! **Leggo of me**!'

That was it; he would hear her stupid ranting no longer; he caught her by both arms and put her against the wall –only this once with half the force he'd done it the last time.

'Oh but you will; and you are not **the only one** who can **shout** so **put a sock in it** **already**!' he said absolutely and made her face him. 'Look, I did not kill that girl-.'

'You're lying!'

'I am not; I was just like you,' she snorted but he paid no attention 'I had found her there when I tried to get to the chamber.'

'Right! And she was conveniently killed right in front of it? Or did the fact she is a muggle-born has nothing to do with it? If the monster of the chamber is attacking –and now **killed**- people doesn't that make **you** the perpetrator?'

'**NO**! I never did anything to those muggle-borns' oh the lies he had to say all in one sitting 'and I would die before doing anything to you-!'

'Oh _really_?' she drawled sarcastically. 'What _**I**_ know is that _**I**_ will die if I say anything that might expose you to Dumbledore…like you _being the heir of bloody Slytherin_ because I took a **goddamn unbreakable vow**! You had it all planned hadn't you? You make me the perfect secret keeper and-!'

'Stop shouting already and just listen to me! I would never harm you under any circumstances' she gave a horrible and derisive chuckle 'and I can't imagine ever living a life where you're dead-!'

'Huh! I find that very difficult to believe especially now with the turn of events. So why don't you just kill me off now, huh? I already know too much and if you let me I most probably go spill my guts out to Dumbledore even if it means dying because then I at least will have done something correct so why don't you send your little pet on me; what is it-a snake?-maybe a basili-?'

She stopped her ranting breathless and her eyes grew twice in size while she watched Tom: he had let go of her, honouring her wishes, but he did something she did not quite expect; he had taken out a dagger and without a notice...

**_Tom stabbed his right hand_**!

* * *

End of chapter 14! I hope you liked it; please review and message! ^^


	15. A blood oath and conclusion

**A/N**: Long chapter is long; you are now warned! :3 M-rated again due to some blood and the dead body... (If you want to remember what happened last chapter then let's just say I can't fit in a recap here or the long chapter will be even longer xD be kind enough and go back to the previous one, please)

* * *

He had placed his hand close to her face on purpose –so she could see what he did-; she saw a little of his blood spring as the knife made contact with his flesh and stained her face; she even heard the sound of the muscles being severed by their very owner and then see some more blood spring out as the dagger continued its downward course all the way to the other side of his hand.

'Wh…-?'

'I hereby swear to you' blood ran down the blade of the dagger as it had pierced his hand 'that I shall never under any circumstances' he winced but kept the blade firmly in its designated place 'be the cause of any harm to you by this blood that runs through my veins.' He took a deep breath, trying to level his pain and heartbeat; the blood covered the hilt and started covering his other hand. 'Should I ever even _hear _of someone who wants to inflict pain on you' he winced again but the pain was nowhere similar to what he felt when he parted with a piece of his soul so it was bearable 'I shall be the one to protect you.' He took the dagger out, blood spraying out of his wound; it stained everything in its range, dying her face and hair red. 'I take this oath under the law of the Old Magick, the law of blood.' he stated in the end; he breathed in and out curtly. 'Please hold out your hand so the vow will be completed.'

* * *

'Did he just...?' both Harry and Ron asked shocked; they looked over at Hermione at once.

'Yes...' she muttered just as amazed.

* * *

She was watching in horrified awe; still she obeyed docilely as she held out her right hand –their wand hands as she noticed- yet kept looking at his face as he grimaced from the pain. Before she realizes why he wanted her hand she felt a slight pain herself; then she felt his blood on the inside of her palm, transferred from the blade, mixing with hers. 'And now the vow is complete.' he stated after he took some of her blood, too.

'Tom, what did you do…?' that was the best sentence she could string together so she felt content with that.

'Isn't it obvious?' he took a breath to relax. 'I made an oath not to ever let anything harm you-how much more kill you I myself. So now you can go and tell Dumbledore everything; but don't tell him about the context of the unbreakable vow or else I'll have to stop you from committing suicide.'

'…Why are you doing this?'

'Because now both of us shall die should we do something the other doesn't want to; so are you satisfied? Have we evened the score? We are in the same position now.'

She felt close to tears…but for a very different reason now: these were welcomed tears-tears of relief and reassurance. Now she knew he must have been innocent or else there was no reason to make an oath of **blood** with her because she served him better dead thus if he really did kill that girl then she was definitely next-that was what his logic was probably telling him but now she knew: he didn't kill Myrtle.

…That's what she thought anyway.

* * *

'Tom-…I didn't-…' she stopped and took a deep breath, wiping away her silent tears. 'Thank you very much.'

He smiled, a little pain being translated into it, too. 'You are welcome.'

He took out his wand and cleaned the dagger; after it was safely tucked away in his robes again he tended to her hand that now had a little blood dripping from it and trailing down her arm. It was definitely not as deep or serious as Tom's –nothing but a deep scratch- but he decided to take care of her first; this served two goals: she would believe he was being honest… and he would look way cooler! And maybe he didn't entirely admit it but even if he thought that blood would and did look good on her –the way her face was spattered by his own blood was just delicious- something deep inside him felt stirred in shame for hurting her on the first place, even if it was mental and later only a cut. Thus he rushed to send those feelings away as they could not logically be explained especially at the moment…  
She though looked at him wondered in the beginning but as soon as he made another wordless spell and her hand seemed to heal itself, she understood; she smiled warmly at him. Suddenly he was being very considerate and nice to her…in a very odd and bloody way but still, he had regained her trust. Now she felt a little happier than when she did at Dumbledore's office almost three hours ago; Tom was good at talking but he was even better in gestures after all. Yet the fact he had to make such a grand albeit convincing gesture troubled her because it automatically meant he had something just as grand to atone for or to prove.

She mentally shook herself out of these thoughts and tried to concentrate on Tom who was about to fix his own hand; but the spell he'd fired didn't work so he started getting impatient; when she heard him swear under his breath she shook her head amused and decided to help him with it.

'Give it here.' she said and started examining it. 'I don't know any spells powerful enough for this and we can't go to the nurse because he'll first kill us and then ask what happened… but I do know some muggle first aid which may help.' she said as she summoned some medical alcohol and a bandage; he watched her interested.

'Thanks…but we can always just go to the library and find a stronger spell- I bet I'd be able to perform it.' he said, some of his arrogance returning triumphantly in his voice.

'No need; this will just heal in a longer period of time...are you implying I wouldn't be able to perform a difficult healing spell?'

'But won't it leave a scar? And by all means no.'

'It was through-and-through so it definitely will…but maybe it's better that way.'

'Oh really? Why is that? Scars make men look sexier?' he asked jokingly, feeling a bit arrogant but they could see he was not comfortable with the idea; she only chuckled.

'That, too I suppose…but no. I didn't mean it like that; I meant to say that maybe that way, if you have the scar and see it every day, then maybe you will never forget your promise to me…'

Tom was surprised; her tone was calm but he could see the insecurity in her eyes and read it in what she'd just said. She sounded like she wanted and hoped he would never break it yet she thought he may do it anyway, even if it was clear if he did it he would die!  
…The workings of this young woman's mind always left him bewildered but he'd learnt that was just the way it was with her a long time ago so he had stopped trying to figure her out. Instead he only shrugged inwardly and just patted her head –with his free hand- and she took it as a sign of recommencing treating him.

'I will never harm you -scar or not; but if it makes you feel better-and since it makes me look sexy…' They both chuckled a little to that 'then why not?'

She smiled; it felt like Tom was coming back. No, wrong; it felt like Tommy was coming back, that boy she got to know during her second year and that she'd felt disappear little by little as the years went by. Even if she was still calling him "Tommy" it was more out of habit than actually considering him to be that same person yet now she could feel him coming back in this brief exchange; but suddenly she shuddered. 'Tom…why did you have a dagger with you?'

'Oh that? I found it in the chamber; I thought it was nice and kept it. I never thought I would have to use it –not for something like this at least-. But, alas, I did; and thanks to it you trust me again so now I can say it definitely is my most favourite possession.'

'I can see your nose growing already; you shouldn't lie like that, Pinocchio…'she teased him and then proceeded to apply the finishing touches to dressing his hand.

'Come on, don't spoil the mood now.' he complained and as she finished, he started examining his hand. 'Well isn't this surprising? You actually dressed it well.'

'Wh-hey! Who ever said I wouldn't be able to do it? And wait a sec-you let me do it even if you weren't sure I could do it? What if I did more damage?'

He rolled his eyes; 'Is that the thanks I get for trusting you? And how did you learn to do this anyway-it's like I came from a muggle hospital?' he looked at her inquiringly in the end but as soon as their eyes met, she smiled but darted hers away, a little blush creeping on her cheeks.

'I um…you see, mum and dad are not very fond of the idea of me being a witch' _wait, what?_ he wondered as her voice betrayed some embarrassment 'and they keep on saying how being a witch is similar to being selfish and lazy –you know, because you do everything with the flick of a wand and most spells are used for selfish reasons- so they have me doing community work.'

_Are they completely mental? Being a witch maybe is the best thing that ever happened in her life!_ Keeping that thought to himself he chose to display other sort of behaviour. 'Your parents are accusing magic for your laziness? Heh! That is a total misconception; you were **born** lazy-once more muggles accuse magic on wrong grounds. Haven't you told them that?'

'Just for your information I happen to be a very energetic and involved human being that simply dislikes homework; I am rather vigorous back home, too. _Not that I can be anything else anyway…_' she murmured the last sentence to herself, her shoulders hanging a little as she stood in front of him akimbo; he didn't know or couldn't comprehend why, but he felt a very small tugging on his stomach.

'Well that explains why you are so unmotivated here…' he merely said, trying to sound as casual as he could. That earned him a punch on the arm so he must have been successful. 'Wait; how is that relevant to the fact my arm is -by muggles' standards- perfectly dressed?'

'Oh right! Last year, because I was fifteen years old, I could –and decided I should- go help out at the city hospital; I kept doing this for a month. They showed me how to do it a couple of times and then left all the work of the kind to me-I was a very quick study they said… and I was pretty good at it-I'd even put a sling on a guy's leg! Oh, and that one time, I helped a man with burns all over his face and body but because I used magic –ugh, I just couldn't see him in such pain, it was so horrible-' she said making a face of absolute empathy 'I received a letter from the ministry. Said I violated some law or something but due to the nature of the spell I would not receive a formal complaint at home. Ha-ha, it was priceless trying to convince everyone that I didn't do anything to the man and that his burns were always that insignificant-I had even used a muggle drug to make them hallucinate, slipped it in the water supply of the day while I had made a special reserve for me,' to that, Tom seemed mildly surprised –if not impressed- 'and blamed it on the weather condition!' she laughed again at her memory, making the young lord Voldemort look at her amused.

'How did you blame them hallucinating on **that**?' he asked sceptical.

She smirked. 'That day, it was exceptionally hot and I'd made sure they consumed enough water for the drug to get to them; then I pretended I "tripped" and fell on the water supply, making everyone dehydrate. E he-he-he…then I said they were hallucinating due to lack of water and the heat!'

'You are a criminal, do you know that? Well, at least you think like one.' he said laughingly but somewhat satisfied; this was very interesting indeed. If the girl was so calculating then he may be able to make use of her "skills". Well, in the certain occasion she did all of this just because she wanted to **help** someone so it presented a problem –considering his own dark intentions- but then again, she could make a plan based solely on his information which would definitely be false, yet the plan would be usable. _How nice…_

'Oh come on…'

'And what about the man with the burns? I'm pretty sure he would have known he had more burns…'

'Actually, he was the easier to convince; he was all looks and no brains, really. I told him that due to the nature of his damage and all the smoke he inhaled he only thought he was badly burned-and lemme tell you that he was such a cry-baby that he needn't telling twice. He actually started agreeing with me, saying he was so panicked and scared he might have even imagined the extensive burns.' She chuckled. 'Aw, he was so fun to treat.'

'You said "looks"? Wasn't his face burnt, too-how could you know?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Didn't I tell you I used a spell to put him right? Well, once I did, I saw him. He was pretty good.' Tom shook his head in disapproval but she didn't see him. 'Well, he was a bit of stupid, too…and a wimp…but a looker.' She shrugged; Tom looked at her in distaste. 'No wonder his girlfriend was butt ugly but very smart.'

'Why now-.'

Just as Tom was about to say something –to show off his superiority no doubt- a strong, loud and strict female voice cut him off:

'**What are you two doing, holed up there in that dark corner**? **Come out right now**!'

Both youths blinked to one another surprised –Tom immediately reverted to annoyed for being interrupted so rudely- and slowly came out of the shadows; the three time trespassers followed them, too…but they were almost chindropped with what they were seeing: it was a young woman with raven black hair up on a neat pony tail, her green eyes shooting daggers at the people who _dared_ to come out of the shadows before her, clutching her books. Her strict gaze was fixated upon the two people she –obviously- recognized -as her lips pursed together- while the prefect badge was placed in the most prominent spot on her fiery red and golden robes.

It was Minerva McGonagall at the age of seventeen.

* * *

'Wow; she is so-…' Ron started shocked, searching for the right words to describe her but founding none.

'-different yet so similar!' Harry completed; Ron started nodding like crazy while snapping his fingers together; Hermione rolled her eyes at their reactions yet she was thoroughly amazed her herself.

'She was very beautiful…' Hermione commented warmly; both boys looked at her repulsed.

''Mione! She's our teacher; for six years she was and now she's like…77, don't say stuff like that!'

'Yeah, it is weird…' Harry agreed immediately…even if he did think she was kind of cute. _Not bad professor!_ he thought at the deepest part of his brain like she could listen to him.

* * *

'Riddle; Adams. What were you two doing-…why is your hand dressed like that?'

_Very observant_…everyone but McGonagall thought; Tom was more annoyed than before while the rest seemed impressed or surprised.

'Oh, he was just hurt, that's all; it's fine now.' Camellia answered, noticing Tom's sour expression; in fact he did no effort whatsoever in hiding it thus McGonagall noticed it, too even if she didn't comment on it.

'And why didn't you go to the hospital wing to get it properly treated?'

Tom's expression didn't change, making Camellia both a little nervous and exasperated but decided she should speak in his stead again; it was quite evident that he disliked the certain woman but only Camellia did she know he disliked her almost as much as Dumbledore himself…and that meant something.

'You see, I've been getting muggles' training in the healing department and thought I should practise a little so I talked him into dressing it myself so he could see my progress, too.' she said rather plausibly and gave a half smile.

Yet the prefect was not amused or convinced yet. 'Can't Riddle speak for himself-do you always do the talking for him?' she asked sharply but then redirected her strict glare to Tom. 'Besides, you don't look like the type to be talked into anything.'

'You are quite right but, oh well; depends on what the other party is offering to convince me.' he snapped, speaking to her for the first time; his voice held a second meaning and a lot of malice towards the woman that she felt. Her skin crawled.

Suddenly, the meaning of his words struck her like a thunder; she swallowed, gave a thunderous glare to Tom and took hold of Camellia's hand. 'May I speak to you in private _please_?' she "asked" as she dragged a confused-looking Camellia away and got her alone, a couple of metres apart. Once they were safely out of earshot –but carefully within Tom's eyeshot- McGonagall freed "her prisoner" and stared right into her eyes.

The three of course had followed the two retreating women right away. They listened.

* * *

McGonagall stared into her eyes purposefully –building up the tension between them- and grabbed Camellia's arms, a determined look on her face. 'What did he do to you?' she asked bluntly in the end; Camellia's intensity vanished in a second, her shoulders drooping.

'Gee; he didn't do anything to me…' she said, half-amused half-indignant and McGonagall removed her hands.

'Are you sure?' she probed again; Camellia rolled her eyes.

'Very. I am positive had he done something to me, I'd be the first one to know.'

'I mean…' she came closer, a conspirator's feel about her 'if he did something to you but for any reason you are afraid to tell because he threatened you then, be sure, Dumbledore will help you.'

Camellia gave a small laugh; 'I know that McGonagall, I'm not afraid of Tom-never have been. Thank you for the concern, I really appreciate it, but I'm fine-he's fine-we're both fine! I mean, why would he do anything to me?'

'…He is bad news Camellia; you –who spend so much time with him- should know that more than anyone.' she stated, a meaningful look accompanying her statement. Camellia smiled.

'He is just misunderstood McGonagall. But really, I thank you for your concern. You are very kind-considering we aren't really "friends" yet you still offer me such protection…so thank you.' she said, always smiling, and started leading them both back to Tom.

Minerva watched her go with true worry; she was always anxious what was going on with this girl "behind closed doors" when no one else could see. She prayed for the girl's safety every time she saw her being nonchalant around him or maybe sharing a moment because that only meant he got closer to her and he could manipulate her easier. She shuddered at the thought but headed back to Tom, following after Camellia.

* * *

When they reached Tom, he looked to be in deep thought but he immediately snapped out of it as soon as they came; he gave McGonagall a very superior look while he actually took a step forward to cover half of the short girl that returned to his side, as if "protecting" her against another sudden movement from Minerva. Reading the not so subtle hint, she glared at him once more –even if Camellia actually shouldered him on the ribs to get out of her face-.

'You are very lucky I won't be dragging you to the hospital wing. Don't get me wrong, Riddle, I had every intention to do so but my friends are expecting me so I don't have any time to spare.'

'Ah yes; you, McGonagall, may be _the sole_ Gryffindor in the **world** who stays true to the Ravenclaw's doctrine that books are friends…' Tom said mischievously; obviously what he had implied had struck a lot of aggravation in the young Minerva as she changed ten colours either out of shame or anger –or both- but her perfectly offended face didn't stop her from being smart obviously because, after her lips twitched, she spoke venomously.

'But don't you worry yourself Riddle; I have every intention of reporting **everything** to Dumbledore once me and my **book**-**friends** are done.' she spat and stormed off.

Meanwhile, Camellia had changed ten colours herself for the same reason McGonagall did; she was a Ravenclaw after all but what Tom had implied to Minerva was a bit too much for her to accept, so she violently kicked him on the kneecap. He endured it and didn't glare at her only because he didn't want to lose the "staring in a mean manner at each other" contest with the annoying Gryffindor.  
Yet, as soon as she said the last, he felt the colour drain from his face; Dumbledore would have noticed there was no injury prior to him finding Camellia and he would surely get out of the girl the reason something like that had happened. Oh no; he needed diversion.

* * *

'Tom, you are such an arse!' Camellia burst out the moment McGonagall was gone. 'How could you say something so cruel to her? And you know it isn't even true-you only did it to hurt her feelings.' she continued, making her point by hitting him all the while.

'Cry me a river, short-legs; now let's get going before some other annoying older prefect comes by and-'

But the young lord was rudely interrupted once again; yet this once it wasn't the voice of Minerva McGonagall that did it, or anyone else's collective efforts to scold him about something. It was the far cries of a mob somewhere near them and the sound of feet pounding hastily and carelessly on the floor; then a scream; then some more; then muffled sounds of crying and panicking.  
…And then it stopped by a very familiar strong voice shouting: _**ORDER**!_

It was Albus Dumbledore.

'Where is it coming from?' Tom asked but something betrayed worry in his voice and that he knew fully well what was happening.

'I have a sneaky suspicion I know…' she said sweating, too. 'Let's go check it out!' she exclaimed in the end and grabbed his good hand. She started dragging him.

'Wh-what is this? You're reading the atmosphere wrong again! When you sound so worried about something you don't run **towards** it but you run **from** it; what is it with you doing everything the other way round?' he complained but didn't shrug her off; she winced.

'Oh come on Tom! Don't you wanna know what it is? I know I do; besides, what's the point of hiding away from it all the time? Since you really aren't guilty for that then if Dumbledore is convinced it's great!'

'Wow, wow, wait a second; you are planning to tell Dumbledore?' he asked shocked, stopping both of them.

'_No _but if we stand right there and he doesn't even suspect it's you then that's great! If he asks of course we're going to lie shamelessly but if he believes us, then we have nothing to worry about, right? Now come on; get a move on already!' she finished by tugging on his hand; he had to admit she had a point…so he started moving again.

But then he noticed something. 'Wait; aren't we moving away from the noise? Then how are we-?'

'Oh naïve little Tommy; if we both think they are at the girls' second floor bathrooms and there is a high probability they are there then why not use a shortcut? Do you really want to use those stairs that everyone who has also heard something will be using as well? Come on!'

His eyes widened significantly; 'You know a shortcut that its beginning is even further away from here!' she took pleasure in his amazement and smirked self-satisfied.

'Only one way to find out: keep up with me!'

And that he did. He was actually surprised to see someone knew such a shortcut; Tom was convinced if someone knew the most about this school then that would have been him because, even if he was still a fifth year, he had walked and wandered the halls of this castle much more often than the rest. Yet, that was something he didn't know and he almost felt bad a muggle-born and not him –or even another pureblood- knew this way.  
Still he tried not to look too amazed -as he secretly felt that this was his justification for keeping her close to him thus he was quite proud of himself- or she'd get a little too arrogant as it was not an everyday occurrence to witness Tom Riddle being astonished over something.

As soon as they walked out of the little narrow path she was leading them through –Hermione had shuddered twice by the creatures she saw residing there, away from all probing fingers of the students- they saw that indeed everyone was gathered in and outside the second floor girls' bathrooms; Camellia stopped curtly, dragging Tom to a halt with her –making the three friends walk through them accidentally- and stood perfectly still. The three watched interested.

'Let's not stand right here or they'll see where we came from;' she suggested tagging on his hand and he followed where she led; but then he realized she was trying to break through the crowd 'let's go in the bathroom-!'

'Are you mental!' he asked flabbergasted, making her stop by dragging her hand. 'Dumbledore is in there!'

'So what? I thought we'd already gotten over this…'

'Are you joking? He has the-…Dumbledore stare! That…stare that stares through you and you feel like someone is trying to stare-gut you like a fish!'

There was silence…and then there was laughter! Camellia started laughing, enjoying Tom's thorough fear of facing Dumbledore at the certain point –ignoring his ominous glare- but ended up drawing the attention of some students who looked at her scandalized (obviously they thought she was laughing about the horrific sight and thought it was quite inappropriate or they just considered it rude to laugh so close to a dead person).

'The Dumbledore stare? Ha-ha; come now Tom, it's not, ha-ha, so bad.' She calmed herself after receiving many death glares from Tom and more students around her and sobered abruptly. 'If he tries to ask anything I'll do the talking; besides, if we don't go in there then that won't be like either of us so he'll automatically think we already know what's in there thus he'll think that we saw it but didn't report it thus he might think we were even responsible…! _Considering what I told him today, too_…' she whispered guiltily but that argument seemed to worked in her favour as Tom had started finally considering she may have been right. 'And you don't want **that** now do you?'

'No, you are quite right…Fine; but you will do all the talking understand? And you better make it look like it wasn't planned or I'll bloody will murder you!'

'Empty threats!' she said superiorly and waved her hair; he rolled his eyes. 'And you used "will" twice in this sentence which is grammatically incorrect.'

'Maybe it is grammatically incorrect but it shows how very definite is my decision in murdering you!' he snapped darkly; she smirked while pushing through the crowd, finally on the move.

'But you can't hurt me, remember?' she said suggestively without even looking back even though she knew he was right behind her.

'There are more ways of murdering a person than the actual act taking a life away…'

'Ooooh I'm so scared.'

She pushed through the last people separating her and the sight of the young dead girl that everyone was gaping shocked at; as she said the last –another pair of a student's eyes shot an angry glare towards her way indignant- she found herself face to face with the dead body lying on the floor.

* * *

It was creepier than she thought it would be; it was scarier than she thought it would be; it brought much more emotional distress than she thought it would bring; she couldn't hold back that feeling of chocking as her chest started going up and down rapidly and she thought she would start hyperventilating. Then she took a proper look at the girl lying on the floor.

'Oh my God, she's a Ravenclaw-she's Myrtle!'

She knew she had seen her once already and she knew who she was but at that moment, it felt as if seeing her dead for the first time; she hadn't been really thinking about it all this time because she was trying to deal with the thought of Tom being a murderer so she didn't quite care about anything else. But now…this was too much for her heart.  
She started shaking again, like the first time she had seen her, and she felt her knees weak; she felt her stomach turn at the thought that only the previous morning had Myrtle asked her for some help for her transfiguration essay and Camellia had shunned her due to the fact she had other arrangements with Jules and had told her to come back tomorrow. And "tomorrow" was now -or even four hours ago- and Myrtle hadn't come to her and Camellia felt very guilty that she hadn't thought of looking for her; she somehow felt she should have gone looking for her…

'Camellia, relax; you-…_you've already seen her before_…'he whispered in the end with extreme cautiousness not to be heard; his problem wasn't just the girl's squeamishness but also the fact that she had turned her whole body to him for "consolation" –even if she was still facing the other way. It felt weird…

'But this is-she's dead, lying there on the floor and-I thought I'd be able to handle this but I can't Tom…' she said between pants; shortness of breath was always one of her problems when she was facing extremely anxiety-inducing situations. And this was the single most anxiety and fear striking situation she had ever been into.  
She felt like crying; not simply because the girl had died but also because she had dared to think Tom, the one who was supporting her right now, was the one responsible. But he couldn't be, not this man. Thus all the emotional stress found its way out through her eyes that stung from the tears that threatened to escape.

* * *

He was watching her almost scared; did this mean he had to cheer her up again? _Twice_ in one bloody day? That was too much for his cold-blooded usual behaviour-and how much more if it involved some dead mudblood girl. Then again Camellia was a mudblood too…This was starting to get on his nerves!  
And when she actually turned her head to him, too with those swollen watery eyes as she was about to cry and buried her face in his chest he went rigid; oh not again. It was like that time last year that she had done this…  
He still felt awkward with her clinging on to him like that but he had somehow gotten familiar with the whole routine so he started slowly patting her head; yes, the good thing was she was short enough to reach up to his chest even if she was fully standing and he could pat her head instead of a shoulder or her back. Besides, her hair felt softer and he loved how every year they were longer than the previous…-oh wait a minute. This affair had to do with that girl that died –that he killed but he should probably don't think like that or he might give himself away- and not with Camellia, he was supposed to look shocked or broken-hearted, too. Damn this whole case with stupid feelings was difficult!

'I know, this is shocking Camellia; just try to bear with it…' he said surprisingly caringly –even if he had actually intended to sound like that it still surprised him how he managed it so well- and continued caressing her head in order to comfort her. It seemed to do the trick because she gradually shook less and less –even if her hands that covered her tears didn't leave the sides of her face- until her breathing evened and he was sure he could feel his jumper and shirt getting wet. _Why does she have to cry three times in one day? She hasn't cried _**_ever _**_before and now she cries so frequently and all of them in front of _**_me_**_? I swear this girl is going to be the death of me one of these days…_

'Tom, why don't you take Miss Adams away from here? She looks like this is the last place she would like to be in; be a good boy and take her to her dormitory…'

Dumbledore; that annoying old man! Tom could never really rest assured or be comfortable, not even for one moment, as long as that professor was watching him like he usually did, always being there to remind him of something Tom seemed to forget –ethics, decency who knows?- and try to strike fear into him for not doing what he wanted. He couldn't even express himself as he wanted because of him at the particular moment, too because Tom had seen him watching the both of them from the moment they arrived at the front!  
Bringing that up, good thing Camellia was a sentimental fool and did all she could to show how truly shocked she was or else Dumbledore would actually consider asking him a thing or two about this incident. He didn't really want to admit it but it was a blessing it was her he had next to him and not some other girl-maybe she even acted like this because she was putting up an act…? Huh, fat chance, but as long as she served his purpose he didn't care if she was the best actress there was!

'I believe professor Dumbledore is quite right Camellia; why don't I take you away from here? No need to be seeing this any longer.' Tom said with all condescendence in his tone but he couldn't help himself but agree with the old bat. Apparently this situation did no good to the girl and the silent covered tears she was shedding on his jumper were enough proof of that. Since this is making her feel so bad, she should just get away from it-that's what he is planning to do.

'Actually, all students should be removed from this sight immediately; teachers, prefects, help me, shall you? Oh, not you Tom…'

And only then did Tom notice: everywhere around him there were upper classmates and some teachers; they were all profoundly in shock but they were there. Heh, incapable oafs; had he been in charge of this place as he had originally planned to –as he'd display a great deal of self-control and non-panic for the situation thus he'd be appointed to keep people away from the scene- then none of those people would be here. And that's what he wanted to happen anyway, but Camellia had to come in and just ran away!

She finally seemed to understand though, as she shook her head in agreement, and wiped her tears away –in order for them not to seen by anyone- as she moved to the back of the crowd. She just wanted to go to her bed and sleep the rest of the week off! But she knew she couldn't do that as life went on with or without you and if you lost the bus then you'd just get left behind.  
She was thinking all of this as she dragged her feet away and found herself in the hallway, without noticing the rest of the students following her example –either made or out of their own volition- and that Tom was still right behind her.

'Are you feeling any better now?' he asked as they made their way very slowly towards the stairs.

It sounded to her as if his voice came from somewhere so far away yet so close; she looked at her right and saw him leaning over her with some concern; she shrugged. 'I have no real idea; care to find out? Poke me with your wand. If I snap no, I'm not that better.'

He fought an urge to laugh; he didn't know if that was humour but if it was she certainly had a great sense of it if she could joke even at a time like this. 'It must be hard on you come; why don't we take that shortcut of yours instead of the main-.'

'_**I**'**ll**_ take that; you take the stairs to guide the rest to their houses.' she said dispassionately as she changed her course; he narrowed his eyes inquisitively.

'You don't want me to take you to your dorm?'

'No; I just feel like if I go to the Ravenclaw common room I'll be expecting her to come in and tag me on the hand to read her notes! It's kind of skin-crawling you know and I just don't want to feel that way yet. Maybe give it another hour or two.'

'B-but that will be both post curfew **and** you'll be alone!' _D__uh, that's the point dimwit!_ both Camellia and Hermione thought at that.

'But I **want** to be alone; please don't follow after me…' she finished weakly and scurried away into that narrow hall she had led him from; he just stood there staring after her with his mouth hanging midway trying to produce sound looking desperate.

'I just don't understand women; why would she want to be alone _now_ that it is obvious to anyone with half a brain that she wants someone to cry to?'

'That, my boy, has been the bane of most men in history: women. No one, even the smartest one, could confidently guess what it that a woman really wants is. Even if you ask her she'll lie.'

'…Do you think that I should go after her then?'

'Ah, definitely; women always say they don't want you to follow them but they always mean the exact opposite, it is like a test of faith; go after her.'

Suddenly he snapped out of it; who was this person who was answering him-it definitely wasn't that little voice in his mind that encouraged him to kill Myrtle so who…? Oh dear Merlin-it was Dumbledore! He almost looked surprised… but then he felt angry at himself. He had actually thought –but for a brief moment- that the person talking to him was right and that he should go after her! Tch, no way of that happening now-he would never give Dumbledore the satisfaction that he listened to his advice.

'Err, sir, I shall be taking me leave now. I believe it is best to leave her to her demons for tonight.' he stated all too formally but before he started walking away he could swear he heard the professor chuckle softly and then say:

'By all means; that was what I suggested, too.'

* * *

Ta dah! End of chapter! Please review!


	16. Just a normal teenager?

**A/N**: Next chapter is here! Long again; geez, I can't write less than 6.000 words anymore...It's a curse-a curse I'm telling you! Anyway, enjoy! By the way, all questions with a "!" means they are supposed to have both "!" but FF changed format so...

* * *

'Err, sir, I shall be taking me leave now. I believe it is best to leave her to her demons for tonight.' he stated all too formally but before he started walking away he could swear he heard the professor chuckle softly and then say:

'By all means; that was what I suggested, too.'

'Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!' the three friends laughed heartedly at Dumbledore's pun… but they also lost focus on the young dark lord. As they tried to regain that focus they realized they couldn't: everything was spinning around once more and the time for them to surface had come.

They looked around and saw they were back in the headmistress's office.

* * *

They were breathing hard, trying to level their breathing from laughing before; Hermione sat in McGonagall's chair. 'Hey boys, look: I'm your superior now.' she said smugly as she put her hands on either side and looked at them in a very condescending way.

'Hermione, you always **have been** our superior…' Harry admitted jokingly and a bit sourly, but admitted it nonetheless; Hermione couldn't help but smile self-satisfactory at that statement while Ron only rolled his eyes. His friend was right but that didn't mean he had to say it out loud in front of her!

'I believe you are quite right Harry; miss Granger, misses Weasly now from what I hear, had always been the one standing above all of you.'

'…!'

And the three were shocked to hear that voice again…especially in their own time as it was professor Dumbledore's voice who had just said that!

…But then Harry remembered he had his portrait and like any other portrait in this room he could talk and interact with his surroundings. And apparently he had added all of his memories, too.

'Professor Dumbledore sir!' Hermione exclaimed happily. 'It's so good to see you again!'

'Yes, how are you?' Harry asked excited but he immediately cursed himself; he was such a prat: how could he be, he is a painting of a **dead** man…

'Is life like a painting interesting at all?' Ron joked; Dumbledore laughed.

'I see your sense of humour is as sharp as ever; I daresay it isn't quite as interesting as what it was before I became a painting but compared to what you're seeing now…I must say it is very dull.'

All of them looked surprised but recovered it quickly, after exchanging glances between one another, and smiled somewhat guiltily yet mischievously: they knew where he was going with this and probably he wanted them to share a little of what they saw, too.

'That is right sir; this is very interesting indeed. I never thought such a thing would ever exist but now that I know and actually see it…'

'It is almost unbelievable.' Harry completed Hermione's loud musing. Quite frankly he still couldn't believe it but given they had checked for authenticity more than ten times by more than ten people then he could no longer doubt it.

'Why is that so my dear boy?' the former headmaster inquired in his usual amiable tone.

'Well, sir with all due respect but these memories make Tom Riddle look like a relatively normal teenager; I mean, he killed Myrtle at the age of sixteen-he was bound to be a monster but this book shows the events with a more…' Harry searched for the correct word, but he couldn't quite find it: biased? Well, it was bound to be since **Tom** wrote it; one-sided? Again, that was not it…

'_Humane_ feel about his nature?' it was Dumbledore who found the word for Harry.

'Yes sir, exactly!'

'Hum…and you do not know why that is?'

'Well, yes.'

'I dare you to venture a guess…'

Dumbledore sounded like he dared him to do something or more accurately, to answer a question he knew Harry would know the answer but…he didn't. '…I really don't know…'

'You miss Granger?'

Oh no; ask a question and Hermione not knowing the answer? That meant shame to her and her cheeks were already burning! '…Maybe because she is with him?' Ron looked at her with narrowed eyes; that was not the smartest thing his genius of a wife could say!

'Why you are quite right Miss Granger-you don't really mind an old man's forgetfulness do you mister Weasly? I just can't bring myself to remember calling her misses Weasly.'

He became a little sour; he looked between Harry and Hermione (who were communicating to him "don't you dare say yes") so he only huffed. 'No…' but then he realized. 'Wait, Hermione was right? That is why he looks different-because she is with him?'

'Ha-ha; you can say that. I meant, this is supposed to narrate Camellia's life but doesn't it strike you as odd that the only time this girl is around is solely when it is related to Tom? Naturally, that is normal for the part of the memories but Miss Granger also knows that even in the text her life impertinent to him is but briefly mentioned. Do you know why that is?'

'Um…no…' Hermione admitted on behalf the three of them; Dumbledore laughed his polite laugh again and found great amusement for himself in their ignorance. But that only annoyed the young woman who set herself up for finding out the reason and one could even imagine her reading through all those information in her brain on Voldemort to find out the answer. 'I suppose the fact he is a self-centred and egotistic person is merely a factor and not the real reason…'

'Quite right Miss Granger; let's just say that that was his nature in general.'

'…and since he knowingly did that then he must have wanted those who saw this to have a…better idea of him…?' she was saying uncertainly in the end, battling with herself to say something that made sense.

'I don't think so; if he wanted that then he would have censored out parts like killing Myrtle or his real intentions for the girl 'Mione. Aren't you the one who told us that all his thoughts and feelings are described in this book in detail?' Harry argued immediately; she frowned.

'Indeed…'

'I dare you to think of something simpler.'

They all looked at Dumbledore surrendered yet inquiringly; he smiled again.

'He derived writing material directly from his experience with the young woman of course but…I am honestly convinced he would have written more about her as an individual **had** he ever figured her out; I now firmly believe he never really understood Camellia, he only observed her quite intensely in order to be able to predict her reactions. In my heart of hearts I think he left this book behind in this world in hopes someone would finally understand Camellia by displaying her abnormal and cryptic –for him- behaviour to a bigger audience than his death eaters.'

'You're saying…he never really understood she was in love with him?' Ron asked; he found that very odd. He was the thickest man on the planet as far as those things were concerned but even he could see the signs in this girl-no way wouldn't a smarter and much more self-centred man like Voldemort have realized it.

'Ron's right; that is the only reason he wouldn't have been able to comprehend her behaviour towards him.'

'But that's wrong' Hermione interfered, having read the entire book 'I know for a fact he knew she loved him; so does this mean…?' she stopped mid-question and looked away, hand on her chin –indicator of her fierce thinking-.

'What!' both men asked in synch.

'It's something that Voldemort kept mentioning in his book that both verifies professor Dumbledore's theory and answers this…he always used to say how he found the power of love scary and he was more than happy he decided he would never experience it by a very young age but the main reason for that "fear" was actually Camellia's behaviour! He always said that she was being irrational, incoherent and completely out of character –by being too lenient- when a case that had to do with Tom arouse and he thought that her loving him even made her more stupid.'

'Wow; the bloke had really serious problems with the concept of love!' Harry exclaimed.

'The bloke-what about the girl!; if that's true –and I bet it is from all we've seen by now- then he's right, she's becoming stupider just by believing him!'

'You really don't like her Ron, do you?'

'Why should I? If it weren't for her or if she was a little less love struck-the idiot- then Voldemort may have never risen to power, you realize that right? And your parents needn't have died, too!'

'Or if she had told on him then maybe she would have only died by the unbreakable vow, he would escape later on and maybe not even Harry would have survived as Voldemort wouldn't have given Harry's mother enough time to think of any protective Old magick charms.'

Everyone looked at Dumbledore with more than just wonder written all over their faces as soon as he'd said that; he only looked back at them, seemingly not realizing the reason the three were in such question. 'What does **that** have to do with anything?'

'Yeah, why is Harry's mother relevant?'

'All in due time children, all in due time; isn't that right miss Granger?' Both Dumbledore and Hermione winked at each other as a little playful smile escaped her.

'Wh…? Oh come now 'Mione you can't-'

'Why don't we just go on and see the next one? The faster we see all of them the faster all of your questions shall be answered, isn't that so professor Dumbledore?'

He gave a gracious smile in return, showing he agreed with her, and she nodded; she immediately grabbed both boys' hands and shoved them next to the Pensive. She grabbed the little silver pouch she had designated from the moment they had surfaced and poured the memory inside before they managed to protest in return. 'I hate it when you do this!' Ron exclaimed as they all dived inside again and found themselves in a now familiar place: Tom's bedroom!

* * *

Immediately both boys' eyes fell on the pair of people sitting on the bed, squatting, but they weren't doing anything in particular; instead Camellia was only looking at him with her chin hanging completely astounded…while Tom was more than displeased by her expression.

'_Is it my idea or is he getting her isolated in his room way too much? I mean, I understand how they can't go in __**her**__ room but this is ridiculous: since we have already seen __**two memories**__ of them being alone in his room doesn't that mean in reality it happened much more often_?'

'_Aha; I never quite thought of it this way Harry, but I guess you're right. What do you think Herm…_-Hermione!' they immediately stopped whispering and watching the two young people and looked meanly at her. 'Stop looking around the room and answer us will you?'

* * *

She was looking around to spot any differences from the last time they were in there: the only big difference was that there were some Quidditch team's posters on the walls (Harry noticed the national team of Ireland there and an autograph from what it appeared their captain and keeper). Also there was his Quidditch gear in a very prominent place upon a chair solely used for that purpose while his gloves where nailed on the wall with a tag under it that said "Team Captain, Tom Marvolo Riddle, year 1941" (_the first year he had become quidditch captain and he had also won the Quidditch cup_, Hermione thought interested realizing why his gloves were pinned on the wall.)

'It is quite true Ron, so shut up and watch what's happening.'

By her snappy tone both men were compelled to just stop whatever they were doing and watch the two; she finally stopped gawking and took an incredulous yet amused look.

* * *

'You really told headmaster you wish to spend your summer in Hogwarts-are you completely mental?'

His expression went a bit sour. 'Choose your wording more carefully Camellia, please.'

'Well, I do beg your pardon but if you're actually telling me you want **and proposed** to the headmaster to spend your summer here –_even if no one's ever done it before and considering the latest events_- then there certainly must be something way off in that overworked brain of yours.'

'Wh-humph!' even if he looked utterly offended by her comment he couldn't help but acknowledge her way of thinking isn't wrong and the three people watching them knew that, too; especially Harry that had seen the memory when the headmaster had turned him down for the exact same reason she just mentioned. 'I guess I can't say you are wrong as the headmaster also replied **that** –in a way- but…I just can't accept it! I'll be turning seventeen shortly and I'll be a full adult so there is no need for me to stay at that orphanage anymore-!'

She seemed dismissive of his arguments though. 'Correction; you'll be turning 17 **next December** and now it's still June but we have our exams, too so concentrate on that will you? I thought you wanted an "O" on all of your OWLS.' she replied with finality in her voice but obviously the subject wasn't over for him because once more he protested.

'That has nothing to do with the other; I can both study and think about my plans for the holidays…but mentioning that, I find it extremely odd that I am studying with you-especially because I want an "Outstanding" on all of my OWLS.'

She immediately fired up; 'What are you saying you twit-' she hit him with the book she was just reading '-I am going to make you fail your exams? Why? Because I am not as obsessive in my studying as you?' she asked apparently angry –or at least annoyed- and continued hitting him with the book ruthlessly on his back or the back of his head that he so carelessly left exposed around her while pissing her off.

'Ow, do not –ow- misunderstand me but –ouch, hey- I don't think you will offer me great help on how to ace my OWLS –ow, ow-; if anything if I follow your lead I might end up getting a mere "Pass"- OUCH! Camellia, stop it now. It's starting to hurt.'

* * *

As soon as he issued the last order, he got serious with stopping her –all this time he was merely forbearing her hits with but a little effort for cover- and turned around and grabbed the book; he took it out of her hands –she was really clinging on to it like a cat- but she fell backwards on the bed. Seeing her, he shook his head amused and he even proceeded to stand imposingly over her (something deemed a little too aggressive a move from the three-he looked like a predator nearing his prey) as she was huffing frustrated on the bed, hands entwined.  
He watched her puff and blow and be all very offended-like as she was also trying to remove a tuff of hair from her eyes; she was grimacing at the fact she could never overpower him –proof of that was the book lying on the floor and she on the bed- as well as to the fact he was an inch too close to her boobs. Why did he always have to do that-make her aware of her body like that by standing purposely too close but without actually touching her; and why did he always have to watch her so closely –she felt he was studying her reactions- that he would tower over her so imposingly? And now he was almost lying over her, looking nothing but dubious as she couldn't quite discern what did that smirk on his face meant; she only knew that it was becoming a more and more often occurrence the past year. Did he do it deliberately just to set her off or make her feel uncomfortable? Or was he like that with every girl when they are alone?  
Suddenly she felt a pinch of jealously at that thought; it felt weird he did that to her, sure, but the concept of him doing it to every female didn't actually comfort her as she thought it would but instead agitated her more_. Wow, hold on; why would I be __**jealous**__ out of all things? It isn't like he is my boyfriend-…and I'm not even sad about __**that**__ so what is with the gloomy feeling I had at the thought of that? Geez, being a teenager upsets my hormones a lot-damn that period! I mean, I'm really not in love with him, right? …Even if I did feel kind of odd at the idea of him touching me or annoyed at the thought of him being like this with other women…And it isn't even a recent feeling I've been like this for a while but I guess it's normal because we are friends for a long time and-…  
Oh God I'm screwed; I am in love with him, aren't I? Aren't I?_

'_Why yes you are my dear!' _a little voice inside her head replied; and that wasn't even hers-it was Dumbledore's! _Oh bloody brilliant! Now I have my conscience burdened by Dumbledore, how lovely!_

* * *

He noticed she started blushing gradually, but without really looking at him; that was weird, he reckoned, but figured it was related to something the girl must have thought yet that reaction of hers still amused him a great deal; he smirked. And not just because of that but because she also smelt nice-she smelt like old books and chocolate… in other words like the two things she loved to do the most with her free time: read dusty old books that she found lying in the library while eating a chocolate cake. What funny habits did this girl have…? Hum, suddenly he realized he was hungry and craved for a chocolate cake, too.  
Wait, was that normal? Thinking of food in a situation like this…? Not that he minded –chocolate cake was one of his favourite sweets, too (those few times he indulged himself the pleasure) - but most of his classmates would always drag conversations on and on saying how exited they got when they managed to get a girl alone in their room –_thank Slytherin for having many one-man rooms_, they said- but every time he is alone in his room with a girl, he doesn't feel tingly. Actually, he doesn't feel anything most of the times. Even when he is with Camellia he will never feel _exited_. Maybe it had to do with the fact he had a different grasp on things than the rest of his peers, -that's just how special he was- and maybe the fact he knew Camellia for a long time before either of them hits puberty…well, he did hit puberty quite early though -and Camellia did on their third year (_Wait, why do I know that?_ he thought for a brief moment panicky but he immediately attributed it to his superior skills of observation) - but he still wasn't feeling anything particularly different when he was around _her_ or any other girl. And he didn't crave for chocolate just because he had connected chocolate and Camellia in his mind right?  
But hang on; he has actually never been alone in his room like this or so close to another girl before –mainly because most women would be either completely swoon or taken in by his looks and power or simply because they were too awkward, especially the younger ones- so this was upsetting; sure he didn't feel exited now… but he did feel different: he felt comfortable around her, comfortable of being himself when she was there. He could be himself and even if she would judge his opinions or actions she still stayed there with him to work things out.  
That was what he honestly liked about her: her being so gullible. Or in other words the fact she was "so understanding and caring" as she used to say. He didn't know why he felt gratitude for that sort of nature but he knew he felt safe to do and say whatever he liked. But the most important part was that she would, no matter the situation, always be by his side trying to guide him to the right path, even if he was half-way down the wrong one. It was comforting to know there was someone there holding your hand and never leaving you, disregarding the mistakes and bad choices you've made. She was…like a mother in that aspect and he didn't know if it was creepy or not he felt attracted to her because of that, but he did.

Um…probably he shouldn't mention that to those pure-blooded gits he is hanging out with or they will start spouting all their nonsense of how he is actually in love with her and he is betraying them and blah, blah, blah. After all, all of these stupid accusations were rubbish; he just felt physically attracted to her… and it was to be expected as he was almost an adult, the right age for a man to be interested in things such as these.  
And she was pretty herself. Well maybe not a _beauty,_ like the noble and lean Malfoy women, but certainly good-looking and cute; and even if she did have a problem with keeping her weight in check at least every time she gotten a little bigger so did her boobs –which was some compensation-. And frankly, they were looking pretty squashy right now –as she had gained weight again ever since the "misunderstanding" about the attacks had been resolved- but he had trained himself not to look directly **at** them.  
And quite a hard training it was; all boys were doing it together one day –being taught by a senior Gryffindor who was quite famous about his smoothness with women- but of course, because he was being Tom, he pretended he didn't care about it so he didn't get to hear a lot of important tricks thus he had to figure out alone the rest. But around that time he had also found out some important things about the women of Hogwarts: they all had something on their bodies to be proud of and show to other people and the incredibly short skirts –even daring to wear it above their knees- were proof of that much. And he also found out that half the girls in his school had a decent pair of boobs…but not that big. It depended on their weight and body structure. But Camellia luckily was one of those who had relatively big boobs when she gained weight so he had no problem…

'…Say Tom, after school's over you'll be going back to the orphanage I take it?' she asked, a new blush creeping on her cheeks and she still wasn't looking at him; he felt smug.

'I suppose I will…' he answered rather disinterestedly and shrugged ever so slightly; this once she did look at him.

'Mind telling me where exactly that is located?'

'…what is this sudden interest? This is the first time you ask me something even remotely close my life outside this school…'

She noticed the paranoia in his voice and hastened to rectify the situation; why did he always have to be so irrationally suspicious? It felt like he **had **a reason to be paranoid, truth be told, but **she** never did anything to deserve that sort of behaviour. 'I would have asked sooner but I could see you were –and still are- very touchy about the subject so I don't poke my nose into it; but now it is about time I did. So could you tell me?'

He immediately got off of her while looking close to angry, all the intimacy and the mood from a moment ago almost evaporating. 'No!' he spoke absolute.

'Wh-why not? Come on, I want to know!' she wined and sat up; he shook his head in the same decided manner.

'I said no and it's final…why would you want to know something like that so much anyway?'

'Why w-…? Humph! Fine, be that way; I am not telling you, too!' she stated herself and stood up from the bed; she went for the book lying on the floor-that most possibly belonged to her- and then grabbed her robes from the chair next to the door.

'Oh come on, don't be a baby Camellia.' he "urged", rolling his eyes, but that didn't seem to have the desired effect; if anything, it seemed the exact opposite as she put on her robes.

She pulled her hair out from under their fabric and fixed her sleeves as she rolled them up for more freedom on her movements. She pursed her lips but eventually looked critically at him. 'If I want to be a baby then I'll be a baby; and for your information I was perfectly well _planning_ to tell you why I wanted to know but now, seeing your behaviour as such, I choose not to. Now grovel while you'll be taking me back to my dorm.'

'Wh-…? What? _**I**_'ll be taking you back to your dormitory? How so? You mad at me, aren't you?'

'Well yes, but you are a prefect; and given this **is** after curfew why don't you take me back to my dorm so I won't get punished? It was your fault I am here at this late hour anyway-you owled me to ask me about transfiguration' he really needed no convincing; he'd be doing it either way. So when she continued with her grand explanation, he was just listening to her talking away like she usually did while they were both walking to her dormitory. 'but that wasn't an answer that could be answered by mail. And they may even think you are taking me to Slughorn or Dippet…-but no one in their right minds will assume Dumbledore, I can tell you that. Well maybe if they all knew about the hostility between you-um, not so much between you as it is more one-sided from your part. But I still don't get why you don't like him; it's not like he does something to upset you-at least not on purpose! Really now, it just feels like you are spiteful he doesn't worship you like every other teacher in this school.'

* * *

There she goes again, ranting and ranting about how Tom should get along with Dumbledore, that old senile fool, who also thoroughly hates everything about him, too-well, not exactly hate but dislike; there was definitely dislike in his behaviour. And he didn't want or cared for Dumbledore's adoration, just admiration. After all, he bloody-well deserved it! He was the smartest and absolutely most perfect student this school ever had and it was annoying how that old bat just wouldn't accept that! Wait just a moment…Camellia may be right on her reasons on why Tom didn't like Dumbledore-partly. Oh well, she was a smart girl…

'Tom m'boy, is that you? It is long after hours what are you-…oh is that Camellia with you? Well then come here both of you!'

Oh no; it was professor Slughorn and he just caught both out after curfew. Well, the real problem was that after this meeting Camellia would be all sulky and even more morally-preaching –in other words annoying- as every time she saw him she would take an expression identical to Tom's when seeing Dumbledore because she just hated Slughorn's ways so much. And proof enough was the unmistakable sour taste she pretended to have in her mouth as they approached him.

'Hello professor, what do you need us for?' he asked smiling, his voice mellow.

'Professor.' Camellia saluted less than friendly but didn't sound rude…yet. Tom sighed relieved to that.

'I was wondering is all…is it true that you'll be taking an award for special services to the school for finding the monster that killed Myrtle?'

Oh bloody hell no; of all the subjects he could start with or all the things he could say, he chose **that** one? Camellia was still disbelieving about it –he'd said he knew the Acromantula was the monster but didn't report it earlier because Hagrid was their friend and that she loved that spider, too- but had accepted it in light of the events that followed: Hagrid's wand snapped in two, expulsion and even the ministry being involved. That **made** her believe it rather she wanted it or not.

Camellia, at the mention of Hagrid's name, became rigid almost glaring a hole into the wall out of sheer frustration, anger and sadness about that; Tom gulped a little uncomfortable when he noticed it but kept his smile wide. 'Why yes sir; I'll be receiving it tomorrow afternoon in the great hall.'

'Oh so it **is** true! You helped them catch the culprit-that's wonderful m'dear boy, wonderful! You may be the first student to make it on the shelf before leaving Hogwarts, how amazing Tom…' he exclaimed exited and shook his hand enthusiastically.

Camellia rolled dramatically her eyes upon hearing that, she always hated that god damn "shelf" he had made just for him to brag about the famous people he had as students, but bothered not to make a comment out of sheer superiority.  
And Tom wasn't as satisfied as he would have been if they were alone because Camellia's state now looked dangerously fragile and he could swear she would snap in any moment; thus, instead of savouring this opportunity to strike his ego, as he's planned, he had to look humble! 'Um, you may be miss-.'

'Hagrid was not the culprit! Hagrid could never-…! Just the fact his –otherwise lovely- spider was the one to blame didn't mean that Hagrid was the one who instigated it-it acted on its own! And I still can't believe that **Aragog**'d-humph_, huuuumph humph_!'

'Aragog? Who is that?'

Tom had rushed to shut her mouth by actually closing it with his hand in an effort to stop her from revealing impertinent to the professor information; it would look too suspicious if the only three people who knew of this spider were directly involved –and the only mudblood was never attacked-. 'Um, just the name of the spider sir; Hagrid mentioned it the other day when they were trying to find it when it somehow escaped…actually he was calling it out in tears as he was very fond of that spider and he couldn't believe it was he who was the "murderer".'

'Aw, how dreadful…but alas, that is the way things must go from now on; the spider had to be killed.'

Camellia immediately freed her mouth –Tom's grip had weakened- and jumped this opportunity. 'Oh, they didn't catch the spider sir, it escaped before anyone could get their paws on it; smart big ol' Aragog, ain't it?' Camellia said so sadistically happy that both people –and the three watching them- looked at her wondered or surprised. 'I say the spider wasn't the culprit so thank god it escaped but that's **just** me I suppose…' she continued with a lighter tone to her voice and urged for the two of them to continue walking to her dormitory. 'Now if you'll excuse us sir, we need to be going; what if a teacher caught us out at this late hour? Wouldn't do now would it?'

Oh bollocks; she had actually just said that to another teacher; she was implying that this one wasn't a good enough teacher, wasn't she? He held his breath waiting to see what'll happen: will Slughorn explode or just pay no real attention to it?

'Ah, indeed; off you go you two off you go. And hurry, will you?'

Tom cursed his luck for the girl's mood but thanked it on the other hand for Slughorn's leniency and after he thanked him –with a very humble, fitting smile- he immediately dragged Camellia away.

As Slughorn watched them go the three heard him speak to himself and make the realization: 'Wait; I am a teacher, too…' but the two students were too far away for him to stop as Tom had made sure he distances them as soon as possible.

* * *

'That was not very nice; you don't see me talking to Dumbledore like that now do you?' Was it their impression or every time Tom got flushed about anything his accent sounded more Irish than usual?

'It is not my fault if you hide your displeasure or dislikes; I happen to want to express my feelings and opinions towards people, you secretive prat.'

'…Like now for example.'

'Yes, like now; stop having that annoyed look on your face and keep moving. If anyone other than Slughorn catches us we are dead!'

'_You_ are.'

'We both are; if I go down I'm definitely taking you with me-solidarity Tom, you'll have it either you like it or not. So do you feel motivated walking faster now?'

He growled at her; 'Fine; move dwarf.' he snapped dispassionately and walked past her.

She grew red. 'D-dwarf?' she caught up with him. 'How dare you, just because you're ten feet tall, to look down on normal-heighted people!'

'I'm 6 feet 1 for your information so clearly you're the one overreacting; and you are a foot shorter than me so-.'

'I'm most certainly not just 5.1…! I'm 5.2 for your information.'

'Oh God, I missed an inch whatever will I do?'

'Oh shut up giant!'

'Better a giant than a dwarf.'

She grew redder than before but held her head up high. 'Women are cuter when they are short.' she stated like it was the end of the conversation.

'And men are sexier when they are tall.' he snapped with the same finality.

'I agree.' she said absentmindedly, shrugging.

'So do I…' he admitted; they looked at one another with the edge of the others. 'Wait a minute; you're telling me you agree with what I said' she nodded 'yet you are calling me a giant to spite me!'

'Well, you agreed with me, too but did call me a dwarf…!'

They stopped and looked at each other for what seemed like a very long time, momentarily forgetting they were out after curfew and if anyone caught them they'd be in trouble; it felt like time stood still as they were just staring at one another. 'Are we going to keep this up for long?' he asked not looking away but he sounded a little annoyed.

'Shut up, it's dramatic effect.'

'Oh, sorry.'

She kept staring at him, not letting him look anywhere else for another minute or so. '…It's OK now, let's go; and I'm very proud of myself and that also includes my height.' She said as they recommenced walking back to her dorm; he casted her an amused look.

'So am I.'

She blushed suddenly and looked at him with great expectancy in her eyes. 'What-of me?'

He laughed just as suddenly yet genuinely. 'No you silly, of myself!' (_Selfish jerk!_ Both Camellia and Hermione thought) but then he smirked, as he noticed her blush more and look away awkward yet offended. 'Did you _want me_ to say it was you?'

'_**N-no**_' she countered hotly, the blushing never subsiding.

_That is not very convincing…_everyone thought either amused or sweatdropped.

'but the fact you said it like that made it sound like that to me, that's all; I don't particularly care if-I mean I'm your friend, I reck' it is only natural to think that was what you meant because if you weren't proud of me then why are you my friend anyway? I mean, _**I**_ feel proud of you-…' he looked at her surprised yet absolutely smug 'sometimes, I mean, when you're-…; well, it isn't all that important but I…oh just stop looking at me like that!'

'Camellia…' he said her name like a question and didn't go on until she answered to it.

They were only three feet away from her dormitory so she waited till she reached it. 'What?' she asked finally, not liking this at all: she could see his smirk growing and growing. And then he went ahead and put his one hand on the wall where she was almost touching with her back and went a little closer. She could feel her cheeks burning hot under his intent stare but couldn't say or do anything to stop him; then again, she didn't really want to anyway as she realized she sort of liked that light-hearted feeling.

'Are you, by any chance, confessing to me right now?'

* * *

All three watching them just stayed there and watched them shocked, their chins hanging. 'Did he just say what I think he did?' Harry asked flabbergasted.

'Oh my dear Merlin, you never say that to a girl! What a selfish, untactful prat!' Hermione snapped just as offended as she was shocked.

'Well, Camellia doesn't look offended…she looks more…um, wondered?'

* * *

And that she certainly did; instead of blushing, or squealing and running inside –like Harry and Ron had expected her to do (not because she was Camellia, but because she was a girl)- or even slapping him as Hermione hoped, she looked utterly bewildered. Tom smirked in a very odd way: he wasn't looking evil or anything like that; could it be he was merely acting like any other –stupid, in Hermione's opinion- guy who was trying to boost his ego by making a girl tell him she was in love with him? _Player!_ Harry and Ron thought amused.

'Confessing to you? Err, I can hardly say that confessing; I mean, I told you what I thought, but it isn't some sort of big secret or anything…seriously now, I just thought it would be normal for you to be proud of me-I am pretty worthy of it after all.' she said, even more confused searching hard in her mind to understand why he would use the certain word; Tom's smirk fell and so did his hand; the three onlookers slapped their foreheads in unison.

Could it be that this girl had no idea what he meant? Was she really that inept as far as romantic slang was concerned?

But then a sound was heard, like someone laughing or at least trying to hide it; both Tom and Camellia looked to the Ravenclaw door immediately suspecting to find it open and a certain black-haired Ravenclaw Julia watching them…yet saw nothing. And then the young lord Voldemort started shaking his head. 'Is it my idea or do you **not** know what that even remotely means?'

'Well, what else could it mean but the obvious?'

'Yeah, what else could it mean? Blimey Cam, sometimes I think you're more socially awkward than any other girl of your age or even younger.'

'Either tell me what you meant in order to get a proper answer or shut it!'

'…Goodnight Cam; don't worry, I got my answer.' he said in the end still shaking his head.

He almost couldn't believe it; he had her in a spot like that ready to make her say whatever he wanted and she goes on and pulls something like that. As he went over it in his mind while he was leaving –and glanced back to see Camellia disappearing into the Ravenclaw common room in the company of Jules (_So it was her; she certainly hides fast_ he thought in the end)- he realized she was actually very familiar with the sort as she had more than once explained to him terms and slang used in Hogwarts…so was she really unaware or did _she_ just **manhandled** _him_?

_Damn it! Now I'll never know-since there's no way I'm asking her __**ever**_! He thought in the end bemused and kept walking to his dormitory…

* * *

As the three friends tried to trace her steps instead of his, everything went black and the people started disappearing; and then they had returned to their present!

* * *

And that was that; next chapter coming faster than the last one! Please read and review! ^^


	17. The orphanage is changing!

**A/N**: Next chapter in such a sort notice? Check the news for a natural disaster in Greece...By the way, I think the previous chapter should be called "foreshadowing"! XD

* * *

As the three friends tried to trace her steps instead of his, everything went black and people started disappearing; then they had returned to their present.

'Did we just witness the dark lord trying to _seduce a girl_?' Harry asked thoroughly gobsmacked, -but sounding a little too open to the idea-.

Ron nodded in agreement and smiled wickedly; Hermione smacked them both on the back of their heads.

'And you think that's absolutely cool now; in case you haven't noticed he is emotionally abusing this girl all the while!'

'So is she!' Harry said shrugging.

'And she deserves it for being such a gullible idiot on the first place!'

'But Ron, she loves him! _…And he **is **the dark lord, a genius and a pathological liar_.'

'Oh, you must be exploring fifth year and older memories!' Dumbledore said amiably from behind them; they all jumped to the sound of his voice again, only this once they were a tad used to it. 'Oh sorry; am I still scaring you?'

'Never mind that; more importantly, how do you know that sort of thing professor?' Hermione asked immediately not wasting a moment.

'Well, dear child, they used to be my students and if I do say so myself I was particularly observant; and when the certain person was concerned I always kept not one, but two eyes on him. I can remember everything like it was just yesterday: the first time they walked through the Hogwarts' doors, the first time _**you**_ three first waltzed in here…oh the promise you all had; and I'm glad to see all of you lived up to it, even if you had to from such a young age.'

'That's true sir, all of it. But was she really unaware or did she intentionally pretend she didn't understand what he meant?' Ron asked in deep thought; everyone assumed his expression, **but** Dumbledore to whom the question was directed.

'I'm afraid I have no idea what you may be talking about; I wasn't in that Pensive with you and I cannot know something I have not seen, can I?'

'Right! Well um, they were in their fifth year and he was trying to get her to admit she was confessing to him.'

'Oh; confessing!' They all nodded vividly expecting his point of view. 'What about?' They all slapped their foreheads again.

'Not you, too sir!' Harry said indignant.

'That's what she said!' Ron snapped.

'Confess to another, in slang –especially in the age of 16 that they were- means that one is making a love confession to their love interest; he was trying to coerce her in saying she was in love with him.'

'And she acted the same way I did?'

'Yes sir!' they said in unison all in a different tone.

'I don't know; I was clearly pulling your leg yet you couldn't tell, maybe she was doing the same!'

'Professor, that was not very nice!' Hermione complained…but she really was the only one-the guys may have found it a bit amusing yet for an odd reason they found incredibly offensive the thought that Camellia might had done the same thing, even if it was to Voldemort.

* * *

'But what is it with her? If Camellia had just come clean about it and had said "yes" what would the problem be? If she weren't that much of a moody broad and she could make up her mind once and for all and she **didn't** torture Voldemort the way she did then he might had even really grown fond of her and instead of killing everyone he would try to become a better person!'

'…Are you telling me that you think he liked her, but not enough to develop into love yet if she were a little more considerate towards him then he might have actually revised his whole personality for her sake and thus the human race would never be plagued by the disease known as Voldemort?'

'Well yes!'

'Well **no**! The fact that you think she'd be able to do all of that if she were but a little nicer is amazing given you really don't like her, but what makes you even think that? He is a psychopathic raving lunatic who only likes a challenge; she presented him that challenge. If she hadn't, she wouldn't even be important enough for him to consider killing -because he already considered killing her a lot of times- how much more to get close to her.' Hermione retorted.

'I also think you're giving his human nature a little too much credit mister Weasly; but I won't completely agree with Miss Granger, too. Maybe you're both right. Maybe if she **were** honest with him and told him how she felt -like mister Weasly pointed out- then he wouldn't be feeling as used and crazed in his personal life as he did and he'd be a little doubtful about his decision of not being a normal human being and experience love. But if she had, he may would have taken her for granted and wouldn't let her get too close to him in the long run -like miss Granger observed-. They were very opposite as characters and both were driving each other over the edge and that I believe is what kept them interested in one another…but I can't blame you for not liking her mister Weasly; up until a week ago I was thinking I put a little too much on her shoulders or maybe she just delivered less than I expected...but now, after headmistress read me the book, I believe I have no right to judge her-especially me. But I will agree with anyone who says she was too lenient with Tom –_no matter how it looks when things actually happen_-.'

'Aw; you're talking about…? Yeah, right you are sir.' Hermione agreed going over a certain event in her mind-an event that was coming up shortly but not too soon.

'There she goes again with her half-finished sentences; what d'you mean 'Mione?'

'Well Ron, you are about to see…not in the next memory but in the memory after that I think... or maybe two memories later. Anyway, let's stop idly spending our time talking about it and let's go see them!'

'Can't we see **that one** first?' Harry asked, almost pleaded by the sound of it, but they all knew that when something like that was concerned Hermione took no objection, bribes or got sweet-talked into anything.

'Oh come on; and mess up the sequence? Never!' she said explicitly and searched for the next memory…or so they thought. 'Before we go again, and given you want to see what I'm talking about a little faster, why don't I read you a little from the book? That'll explain things faster, skip a memory and then we'll get to the memory you want sooner.'

'Sold!' both men exclaimed; wow, Hermione would have made a fine advertiser or whatever that was called, Ron noticed, as she had already convinced them to do what she wanted and given she was always great with words he bet she could even sell feathers to hippogriffs!

'Alright then' she said thrilled and started browsing for the correct page 'let's start: I'll only read a little.'

She cleared her throat and then she started reading…

* * *

"Once the exams were over and we all got a breather, the time had come to leave the school for once more; we got all of our stuff packed –something Camellia would always do with piety- but for the very first time she was not there to do it with me. Of course, one to think we always and every single year did that together would be a misconception but she'd always stop by at some point of her packing to take or give back something she had borrowed or help me with something she deemed too much of a 'woman's job' for me to do it by myself.  
But not this once; she didn't come by even once while I hadn't seen her the previous day at all. I had figured she must have been still angry with me for not telling her where the orphanage was located but I had no time to pursue her this once and ask for explanations: me and my death eaters-"

'He had come up with these names a little before he killed Myrtle.' she explained briefly.

"-had a lot of things to talk and plan about. After all, we also had to keep a low profile because even after the expulsion of that abnormally large oaf half-breed Hagrid, Dumbledore still kept tabs on all of us and he had **me** on the shortest leash of all. That might have been one of the most important reasons I needed the girl around me more than ever but that day no one could really blame anyone for not being with someone they usually were with. Thus I allowed myself a sense of security for the moment and expected to meet her on the train.  
Once again, it would be a false thought someone would have if they believed we always had the ride back home and/or the ride to Hogwarts together but I would always search for and maybe spend some time with her either at the beginning or the end of the ride.  
But once more, that didn't happen-."

'Then he goes on to say how he searched for her in the train but wasn't in her usually preferred seats and then how he didn't have any more time to spend in looking for her thus he went to lay down his plans with his group. After that he says how he went to the place where he had found out his mother used to live –give or take- and how he went and killed his father and his grandparents and blamed his uncle Morfin for it.'

'Hermione! You just left out the truly interesting part of the story!'

'Well, it wasn't narrative, it had dialogues and stuff; I thought you wanted to get to **that **memory anyway! Plus, it's a chapter long –small yet a chapter- and Harry Dumbledore and I already know it…somewhat. Right?'

'Yes; but don't forget he also stole his uncle's ring.'

'Right that, too; thanks Harry.'

'Hermione!' Ron complained exasperated again.

'Well, now you know. And if you are so bent on seeing how he killed his family I'll give you the book to read it because it certainly doesn't have a memory of it in here.' she snapped superiorly. 'Now shall I go on?'

'…fine.'

"…I returned to the orphanage. It was only halfway through the summer vacation which only meant that I was obliged to stay there –given I was still **16** (as Camellia loved to point out) even if I was also 7 months old-"

'He had a serious problem with that orphanage.' Ron commented…but stopped immediately as he saw his wife's strict look.

"-for the rest of the summer. I would have never returned there but I had no excuse -and no money- to stay somewhere else (considering all the gold I found in the chamber of secrets was not to be revealed yet) and knowing that the annoying old man Dumbledore would still be trying to pry, I decided: I had to return even if it were simply not to cause any suspicion to anyone.  
I could have just as easily gone to stay over one of my subjects' houses of course, or even try to track Camellia down, who was bound to be on one of those "expeditions for the unfortunate" -as she used to call them- but I wasn't in the mood of seeing any of my classmates' faces after all that happened with… "father" and of course I had no intention of owling _her_ given she had been ignoring me all this time (even if I actually thought regularly of where she might have gone to help). After all, every previous summer she would write to me every other day to say how her day went or a funny incident that happened because of her (or to her)… but not that summer. I figured she must have still been mad at me for not answering her –because as usual she overreacted and would see it as a lack of trust towards her-. So looking for Camellia was absolutely out of the question and the only thing left for me to do was go back there.

But looking back now, I can safely say returning to the orphanage that last year was one of the smartest things I'd ever done…"

'And this is where the next memory starts; gather around everyone and let's go! I should warn you though, it's a big one.'

* * *

They dived immediately; when they landed Harry saw it: it was that orphanage he'd seen just when he'd seen fo the very first time Tom Marvolo Riddle, the scared yet scary eleven-year-old boy with the bossy and demanding attitude.

Strangely enough though, when he looked at the courtyard of the orphanage he barely recognized it: instead of bare and depressing, it was full of colours and smells while balloons, tables with chairs and random hand-made banners (that their makers had clearly been little children) were everywhere. Of course the children and generally all the occupants of the orphanage were outside, too: the youngest ones running around in crazy circles while the women who cared for them would shout "don't run" while –ironically- running after them, some other would paint more of those banners or generally draw while sitting on the tables and the woman who was in charge of everything –Mrs Cole if Harry's memory served- would sit in the highest place and overlook all with a peculiar relaxed yet not serene face and with a glass of gin in one hand.

'That is the first and the sole orphanage I have ever seen to be so bright.' Ron commented astound while Hermione was nodding in the same astonished way Ron spoke.

'That was not supposed to be like that! I mean…when Dumbledore showed it to me when he came to invite Tom it was bare and as grim as the building behind it-…which also looks different due to the bustling of the courtyard but I'm telling you, it was depressing then!'

'I instantly believe you…' Hermione said but both men looked at her wondered.

'Why wouldn't you believe me?'/'Why would you believe him so easily?'

They looked at one another. 'Oh come on Ron!'/ 'Oh come on Harry!'

'Boys, look!' she snapped and grabbed both their chins and turned them -to Harry's left and Ron's right-. '**That** is Voldemort. D'you see how he's processing this sight?'

* * *

There was Tom Riddle looking at the courtyard, behind them –and right through them, which was kind of creepy- with the utmost sceptical or bewildered expression they had ever seen him with; his trunk was lying on the pavement, which apparently had slipped out of his hand to be in such an angle.

'What the blazes has happened to this place? It looks like something out of a sappy dream-and there's just too much pink and blue!' Voldemort monologued to himself while trying to take in the new appearance of his temporary home, a little more than shocked.

'Riddle is that _**you**_?' they heard a voice and watched as someone ran towards him –right through them again, which made their skin crawl-: it was a young man, Tom's age if they had to venture a guess, with scabby-looking long red hair and clear green eyes but with nice clothes for an orphan. He had a pale complexion and a lot of freckles that looked –surprisingly- good on him.

'Huh? Oh, hello Bill-…'

* * *

'Wait _Billy Stub_?' Harry exclaimed shocked.

'Maybe; why?' Hermione inquired silently enough to both here herself speaking and what else Voldemort was saying.

'_-how have you been? You look well.'_

'_thank you Tom; I'm just fine actually. You look well, too. Only a little run down. Is everything alight?_'

'Because Billy Stub is the boy whose rabbit he hung from the rafters!'

'Oh!' they both did surprised and paid extra attention to see how the relationship was between them.

* * *

'Ah, I'm just a little worn out; but do you mind telling me what in Merl...-Mary's name is happening here? Why does the orphanage look like it came out the page out of a children's book?'

_'He was about to say "Merlin's", wasn't he? Ha-ha, I got that, too!'_

_'Shush Ron!'_

'Oh that? Long story, I'l tell you later-but come on, let's go inside; you look tired so give me something to carry!' he continued and grabbed Tom's trunk to pull it up. 'Bloody hell, it's heavy!'

'Yes, it rather is; let's carry it together.' he offered and grabbed the one side of his trunk; who would have known he is so polite…when he wanted to.

They started walking inside and the three followed immediately. 'Long time, no see though; you don't write, don't call, and haven't even come here for Christmas or Easter for years! I swear once you turn eighteen and leave we'll never hear from you again.'

'Oh, I hope not; I hope _all of you_ here in the orphanage _hear of me_ at some point in my life.'

Scary thing was, Harry thought as he felt his hair stand, they would all get to hear of him but not in a way they'd recognize… 'Enough about that; do tell why _this_ happened to the orphanage; new benefactor? And I bet it's a woman...too much pink for my taste-hey, watch it girl!' he finished while a blond pig-tailed maybe eight-year-old girl came zooming past him.

'**That** you'll get used to...it **is** a woman but it wasn't her chosen colours: she preferred blue and bronze but…it was her own suggestion that the little people choose for themselves. Ah, you'll get use to it... Hey stop running on the stairs or I'll tell Mrs Cole!' he shook his head. 'The children here have gone more hyper active than you could have ever imagined; you are lucky you are here but a short period of time.'

'Blue and bronze you say? How unusual…'

'Unusual?' he echoed. 'How so?'

One could see Tom was not willing to share too much with him but at least _that much_ it didn't harm to say, so he finally spoke as he unlocked the door of his room (he'd locked it the last time he'd have left but he had promised Mrs Cole he'd be the one cleaning it in order to allow him to keep the sole key of the room for the time he was away...and thinking about it he had to clean up, too. _Just great_.) 'You see one of the "houses" in my school is of that colour; mine is green and silver.'

'Really? Wow, that's what she said, too!'  
Tom froze.  
'I mean, she said her dormitory colours are blue and silver-wow!'  
Tom was now glued to the spot, the threshold, resulting in pulling back the eager Billy and almost making him face the floor. 'Tom, are you OK?'

'I-I'm spiffing, but…are you sure that's what she said?' he asked still in wonder only this once functional as he walked in with Bill and disposed of the trunk on the floor carefully.

'Yes; you think she is a classmate of yours? Hum, there **is** a high possibility; I mean, she is very short but she does look like your age and how many schools in Britain have "houses"? Wait, she's out at the courtyard, I'll call for her.'

They both went to the window and struggled to open it; it was a little hard due to the fact it hadn't been touched for such a long time. 'Hold on, it has a trick to it.' Tom said trying to make himself relax and remember the trick he used to open the window with.

That feeling you get when you expect something or something happens and you are nervous and you can't quite steady your hands to do anything like opening a door or a letter, it was the exact same thing he was experiencing. Could it be? Could it be _her_ out of all people that came here? Was that why…?  
It eventually came back to him; he hit it with his elbow at the lowest part next to the lock and pushed it with his other hand from the latch… and it finally moved! 'Here!' Tom urged and gave him space to look for her while doing it himself.

'Thanks.' He leaned outside, trying to spot her, but no luck -Tom knew because he was following his eyes-. 'I can't see her; wait, I'll call for her.' Billy cleared his throat and shouted in a loud, deafening voice:

* * *

'**CAMELLIA**!'

* * *

Tom stopped whatever he was doing and looked at him with eyes wider than ping pong balls. 'HEY, CAMELLIA! CA-…Tom? What's-?'

'Camellia? As in Camellia Adams!' he asked even more shocked, fighting a very powerful urge to shake the truth out of him; this could **not** be happening!

'Oh I dunno her last name; we're orphans, we don't ask that kind of things-CAMELLIA! HEY CAN YOU HEAR ME? **CAMELLIA**!'

'Geez, I can hear you Neanderthal, I'm right here…_Tom_?'

* * *

The moment her voice was heard he started looking everywhere around him –yes, even outside in the beginning- but as soon as she heard that _Tom_ being said with such humour and meaning that's when he knew: not only was it her but that was the very reason she had asked him about the orphanage.

He turned around, his eyes very wide but then back at their normal size... and there he saw her standing under the threshold.  
She was wearing a white summer dress –making an amazing contrast with her even darker, due to the sun, skin- her now elbow long hair covering her shoulders that were already decorated by two straps that were going at the nape of her neck. The belt on her waist was the only black he could see along with the buttons while the skirt was frilly and wider as it descended from waist to knee and at that exact length, too. She'd been wearing a big white hat that she was currently holding in her hand and she had the widest, most wicked smile playing on her lips. All in all, this was the most woman-like appearance she had ever made…and Tom had witnessed that was.

He tried to speak back but he couldn't do it right away; he felt his mouth dry. That was odd…but also uncomfortable; he felt his throat wet once more and only then did he spoke –in order to be certain to produce the exact tone he wanted-.

* * *

'Camellia.' He wanted to sound normal but he only managed to sound something between surprised and scolding; maybe the fact he couldn't stop trying to look at her from head to toe, -trying to comprehend if that was still the same Camellia he left from Hogwarts with or not- also lessened the effect but at least he liked what he was looking at. And he liked it a lot.

But then he realized he was caught completely off guard by her coming here and that it was all her fault for not telling him on the first place –even if he had gotten her angry which resulted in her not telling him- and he suddenly got very angry he acted so surprised in front of Bill.

'Oh Tom; I knew I'd be seeing you sometime soon!' she exclaimed after a long pause from the both of them; she launched herself and gave him a big hug.

'Oh so you **do** know each other!'

'…' Even before she lets go off Tom they both looked at Billy with a raised eyebrow; 'You must be the genius of the lot here Bill.' she snapped emotionlessly after she let go of him; Billy rolled his eyes but Tom still didn't say anything. 'So how are you? What in earth took you so long to come here; it's been half a month!'

'Well I would-…' he stopped, reconsidering. 'Why don't you leave us alone for a moment Bill? We have some…private matters to discuss.' he said with a half-smile and a very polite tone.

'Sure; see you in the courtyard in ten minutes-don't forget Cam.'

* * *

Tom waited till he left and –after he closed the door himself- then he turned to her looking thunderous. 'I don't believe you are here; why in the bloody hell did you not tell me that you'd be coming here?'

'Oh well, that is because I had every intention of doing so until you decided you couldn't share with me even the name of your orphanage; then I got angry. See? Simple as that. Now will you answer me?'

'Wh-and-...but-...! Are you serious? You could have given at least a **hint**-'

'Oh I most certainly did! Like you said, had I ever asked you anything like that before; _**no**_, so-'

'-and an orphanage at the capital nonetheless-'

'-I chose the city, they chose the institute-'

'-and what was with that hug a moment ago!'

'-what? You mind _I hugged you_? Oh there we go again; do tell Tom, do you have some sort of split personalities disorder?'

'I meant in front of him.'

'You are shy now.'

'No but I have a reputation to uphold!'

'Ah, yes of course; because Billy will lose all respect for you now that I've hugged you… the respect you worked so hard to earn by _hanging his rabbit from the rafters_! Or by isolating Amy Benson and Denis Bishop in a cave and showing them magic which scared them out of their wits!'

'What…-?' he started angrily but then he realized the anger he felt was not towards her that knows it, but the fact she does. He felt shame rise to his cheeks for the very first time ever; no one from Hogwarts with the exception of Dumbledore was supposed to know about that. 'How do you know about all of those?'

'You have no idea what sort of grudge little Denis has against you Tommy.' she said mischievously and walked to the door. 'Now let's go; we have to be down by twelve sharp in order to serve the food. And why did it take you so long to come here?'

He looked at her wondered. 'You help with the food?' he asked just as bewildered.

'I do a lot of things around here!' she said happily.

'Right... what do you do here anyway? I can see your use in a hospital but what do you do in an orphanage?'

'I help coming up with ideas about the curriculum-I was the one who suggested to eat outside for all the nice summer days, I was the one who thought we should have the children draw and paint the banners, I helped change the menu –for the best of course- and I also help in the cleaning and taking care of the children. I like children.' she added in the end innocently and smiled.

'O…K;' he said with a raised eyebrow to the last piece of information. 'you've been very busy in my absence I see…'

She smiled again and started walking to the courtyard where apparently they'd be having their lunch since it was sunny and kind of warm. 'Wait, if you knew I'm supposed to come here then how come Bill didn't know-?'

'I never told anyone I know you or else they'd spoil the surprise of course…' she replied as if she had just pointed out the obvious and it was silly of him to even ask; she took his arm –without him offering it- with both of hers and started pointing everywhere and saying what she helped with and where.  
But then it came to her…he was a part of these people, too and she acted as if doing some sort of great charity or project no one had thought of ever before and improved everyone's lives. But the thing was Tom grew up there without all these innovations!  
She bit her lip guiltily and looked up at him, now clutching his arm –that he didn't remove from her grip because he realized that every person they passed by was looking at him in awe for being so close to her-. 'I'm so stupid…why don't you tell me something about this orphanage before I came here and swept it off its feet?'

He gave a small laugh. 'I believe there isn't a single thing I would like to remember about this orphanage before you changed it; it looks friendlier now. Much friendlier.'

They could hear her heart practically break at the sound of that –and they were pretty sure Tom did, too- as her eyes became completely empathetic to his "suffering" as a child; she gave his arm a squeeze –which he knew in her language meant "you're not alone"- and then completely let go of it. Instead he took his hand and led him -with a complete mood swing- vigorously to the serving tables. 'Grab an apron and help us serve then! And will you ever tell me why you came here-?'

'I'll tell you later, I promise.' The serving tables had three huge cauldrons filled with food that he had no idea what could be –given she spoke of an altered menu- but if his nose was not deceiving him it must have been meat. And a nicely cooked one, too. 'Is this…stake?'

'Ah, yes; every Saturday and Sunday it's special meal day! Today stake, tomorrow homemade beef!' she said, wagging a finger in the air.

'Homemade?'

'Yeap, a recipe mum gave me…'

'Your **mum**.' It was more a question than anything but then he realized. 'By the way, **how** are your parents taking this…?'

'...**They** urged me to come to an orphanage.' she explained like talking to a little child; he grimaced.

'I mean about you being here with a classmate?'

'Oh! Ha-ha; that! Well, that was technically a lie up till some moments ago and I would **never** tell a lie...or more than the absolutely necessary-.'

He widened his eyes shocked -as he was putting on his apron after following her example- and a stupid smile escaped him. 'You lied to them?'

'Well, no…technically.' she said, again not very convincingly, smiling uncertainly in the end.

'Ha-ha; I'm actually very proud of you Cam, very proud.'

'Oh so _now_ you are…' she snapped meanly as she wore her hair up and started sorting out the dishes for the food.

'Why, when wasn't I-…? Oh, you mean then…' *

'Yes; _then_,** prat**.'

* * *

But before she could properly finish what she wanted to say, a male voice interrupted, the first one to come to get served. 'Prat is an understatement my dear…Tom. You are here. You hadn't come until now and I hoped you wouldn't come at all; do tell why you spoiled the surprise.'

'Come now Denis, play nice.' she said but refused to give him any sort of food.

'You don't understand; this is the git I was telling you about!'

Just about then complains started coming from the –very small- people behind Denis.

'Well "this git" happens to be my friend; we go to school together. Now get to the back of the line!'

'What? You know each other!'

All the surprise Tom felt when he saw her again, he saw it tenfold on Denis's face and there was only one thing he could think of: all the "shame" he felt he could now see it was worth it. 'Why yes Bishop; what is so hard to accept?' he said with all the malice and superiority he could master while placing very discreetly yet in a very prominent place his hand: around Camellia with his hand visible on her forearm. Denis eyed him angrily.

'It's because such a nice and sweet girl like her seems a little off to be friends with _you_ Riddle.'

'Yeah, doesn't it? Thank god someone noticed!' Ron exclaimed –making Harry and Hermione roll their eyes-.

'Whatever; you know you won't get a serving until all the younger ones are all full and currently they would be fine if I just lynched you so go back to the end of the line and wait there.'

'Wait a minute Denis, don't leave.' Tom said, stopping him (making Camellia look at him angrily). 'How did you call her?'

Denis smirked at that '…you mean the part where I called her "dear" or "my"…?'

'Both.' Tom snarled; Camellia looked close to desperate.

'Children, you'll get a serving from **me** and **Mrs Claire** till Denis goes back to the line, OK? Here you are dears.' she said trying to relieve the line and calm the children but the other two kept going at it.

'Well then, I'm afraid you're twice annoyed.' he said absentmindedly and tried to leave again; Tom caught him by the arm.

'Don't call her like that; don't **ever** call her like that again-specially you.'

He smirked wider. 'Why is **that** Riddle?'

'Here you go dear;' Camellia said handing another child a serving of stake smiling. '_Tom, stop it_;' she snapped still smiling, seeing a couple of the young ones looking at them a little afraid '_you're scaring the little ones_. Here you are dear.'

'_Don't interfere in this Camellia_; why do you care **why**? You should just do it.'

'Who do you think you are?'

'Exactly who I am: Tom Marvolo Riddle pride and joy of the Hogwarts school for wit-…witty and gifted people. No wonder you never got in.'

He got pissed but let it go as he chose another approach. 'I meant who do you think you are to think you are able to boss both me **and** her around; it was her I called whatever I called, why do you care? Are you her bloody-boyfriend?'

'Yes, I am her bloody-boyfriend. Doesn't that make you an annoyance?'

Denis was left thunderstruck; the three watching them were left thunderstruck; Camellia widened her eyes momentarily (but then smiled to the little boy and just gave Tom a weird look). '**You** are her boyfriend?' he was incredulous as well as shocked.

'Yes; again, why is that so hard to accept?'

'Because…it's you; you are mean!'

'I'm mean only to those who are mean to me; I think that goes for everyone. I am just a little more affective to revenging the people I don't like.' Suddenly he felt an elbow hit on his ribcage. 'Ouch! Camellia!'

'Don't you "Camellia" me; are you serious? Why do you go on and say such a thing?' He realized just then that she was standing right next to him and she was more than capable of telling the truth; Denis looked at them suspicious while Tom was trying to communicate with his eyes "Just go along with it, please!" 'I am very mad right now, I really am; why did you say I was your girlfriend? ' Tom looked at her in the most obvious way he could to get her to agree with him, but she just turned around. _Bloody great…_ 'I thought we had an agreement; you agreed we wouldn't tell people even-how are we going to meet in the late hours now?' he breathed in relieved –but discreetly- while Denis was completely astounded.

He smirked; she was so good at this! 'Well, do pardon me if **that's** the case but if you didn't want anyone to know so you can flirt with **this** oaf then I'm not sorry at all.'

She slapped him; he looked at her with a completely lost expression. 'What was that for?'

'How _dare_ you think something like that about me? If that's what you think then maybe we shouldn't be together anymore.'

Even the little children were now watching them interested and Denis was just looking from one to another like watching a tennis match; Tom shook his head –trying to hide him enjoying the moment with him trying to get over it-. 'Wh-I didn't mean it like that; flirting is generic, not cheating and sometimes it just happens either you like it or not; it's just that I hate _him_ flirting with you!'

'Does that mean you have been flirting with other women behind my back! Oh that's **it**!'

He could barely hold himself back from laughing! And she was very into character, too! Wait, did that mean if they ever went out she'd be like that? **That** was a scary thought. Wrong; the fact he just considered they might be going out in the future, that was the scary fact. 'No, I meant I don't think you'd ever cheat on me-or the other way round; geez, you're always taking everything the wrong way.'

'Is that really how it is?'

'Yes.'

'Oh well then, fine; and what are **you** staring at? Move along. And you, to the back of the line already!' she finished, hitting Denis on the head with the huge fork she was holding.

'Ouch; alright…she's really violent, isn't she?' he asked in the end at particularly no one but there were more than one nod from the small ones as well as a: "You have no idea." from Tom.

As soon as she made sure Denis was long gone and waiting to be served at the far end of the line, she laughed. 'Well that was pleasant!'

'That was _amazing_; thank you for playing along.' he said in a hushed voice and gave her a small smirk; she smiled back.

'No problem dear… but if this reaches my parents in any kind of way you're a dead man, OK?' she continued in the same hushed voice and that same unfaltering smile.

He swallowed; why was it that this particular person looked more threatening with a smile on her face than a mask of absolute rage? Of course he wasn't scared of her but as far as threatening expressions went he was quite positive she would get a first place should one ever hold a competition –and with the hypothesis he wouldn't be entering-. 'Why yes _honey_; I understand.'

'What a good man…'

* * *

**A/N**:*See what I did there? Ha-ha I love refrences (previous chapter people :P)! And finally next chapter will be the one I was trying to get to -darker, "sexier"- so I hope you stay with me! Read and review!


	18. The truth revealed and

**A/N**: This is my favourite chapter so far!

* * *

'If **us** being an item reaches my parents' ears in any kind of way you're a dead man, OK?' she continued in the same hushed voice and that same unfaltering smile.

He took the not-so-subtle threat and smiled sweatdropping. 'Why yes honey; I understand.'

'What a good man…'

Everything fast-forwarded, but they'd gotten used to it by now so they just watched them finishing with the servings, finding seats, eating and leaving the courtyard –after they **both** (to all three people's watching surprise) played with or helped the small children-; then time started getting its normal pace back and they found themselves behind "the couple" ascending the stairs in a very cheery mood. In truth, the mood between them was so good that they wondered how all those grim memories they had seen before (him trying to attack her or calling her a mudblood –and her whipping him-) could ever be true: wide smiling faces and eyes mirroring happy experiences.

'-and I told you it'd be fun playing with the 6-year-olds; those are always the best ages, not too fragile yet not too mean.'

'Why do you sound like you have experience in the matter?' he asked sounding truly wondered; after all, that would be normal for him and not her-she's supposed to be an only child.

'Because I do; we have a neighbour whose husband's always away on some war and every time he returns they have a **very** good time, _if you get what I mean_, so now they have ten children-**ten**! So you can understand we had our hands full back at the neighbourhood. _All_ of them are his of course, she is very faithful; tch, she barely gets out of the house, poor thing: walk some children to school, take a walk with those who don't go to school yet and never even goes to the market-the women and girls from our neighbourhood do (guess what _**I**_ was doing before I left for Hogwarts and when I returned) and she is so sweet and kind. She's young, too, for having ten children, not even 40; they got married when they were only 16, ran away from home and he became a soldier to support themselves. She had the first kid when he'd first returned–ha, ha they must have been in crazy love-. And she's quite cute-_a beauty_ mother used to say-not that she still isn't good-looking but after ten children she's bound to have gained weight. Yet her husband doesn't really seem to mind…'

He was listening to her ranting about some woman he didn't even know, but the strange thing was he didn't even mind given she always did the same: go on about things or people he had no idea what or who they were so he'd gotten used to it by now. Of course he never really paid any serious attention: he would only hear but not actually listen to her; still, he found it very calming because her voice, when it wasn't that high-pitched angry sound she produced when they were fighting, was somewhat soothing. But he just couldn't resist teasing her. '…you do know you don't have to tell me _everything_ that there is to know about her…?'

'Oh shut up!'

'I'm only assuming now but you do sound fond of the woman…so you must quite like her, yes?'

She looked at him with wonder yet with great mood to find out where he was going with this. 'Right; go on.'

'And you said you like children. She has ten, correct?'

'Yes…'

'Does that mean you want to be like her?'

'Ah!' she started hitting him on the shoulder that was from her side –lightly this once-. '_**No**_!'

'I mean, if you do then note you're way behind schedule: you're not even remotely close to getting pregnant-.'

'**Pervert**!' she squealed in a way they had never heard her before as she continued hitting him -but now violently- on that same shoulder. 'How can you say that, you pig? Just because I like children it doesn't mean I want to be a baby-maker before I even be an adult or married before get a job-what's wrong with you?'

'Well, if you continue like this –I have to tell you- you'll be very close to _looking_ pregnant; is it my idea or you have gained _even more_ weight than-?'

'Wh-**TOM**! **How can you even say that**…!' she said, absolutely shocked.  
She always hated him commenting on her -constantly changing- weight; OK, she knew she had a problem, no need to rub it in her face all the bloody-time. But his once she had stopped hitting him because he was actually right: she had gained a little more but it was there. Yet how did he always know? 'How in earth did you realize? This dress is so tight, first time I tried on it I thought I'd lost weight.'

'You are indeed correct but…my experienced eyes cannot be fooled by a mere dress, -no matter how good it looks on you- you must do more than that.' he replied smugly but she obviously wouldn't be satisfied with generics; she nudged him.

'…no, honestly. How can you always tell? You are one of the _very_ few who do-and the rest of them are _girls_ so pray tell!'

'Honestly?'

'Yes...!'

He felt uncomfortable being the sole person in her presence at that moment and she could see that his cheeks were starting to get rosier like that one time they drank together fire whisky –_illegally_ of course- and became suspicious by that fact alone...yet decided not to say anything until he heard his confession. 'Well, _honestly_,' he put extra emphasis in the word to remind her it was her idea him being honest 'I can measure your weight by…well, the size of your breasts.'

* * *

There was no response; she only stood there in the exact same way she was looking at him before he spoke the truth, apprehensive and expectant…but that couldn't be good because it only meant she was gathering her strength in order to-

'AH! AW! **Camellia**-AAAAH! Mercy, please; **you** were the one who a-AH!-asked me to be honest and this is what I get in return?'

The three stopped looking at them the moment she began hitting him; after the first slap they looked the other way and didn't turn until they could no longer here the sound of her limbs colliding with some part of his body.

'You are not getting hit because you told the truth but rather because the truth was something like that!' she punched his shoulder for the last time; but why did that have a second meaning to the young man, considering what he was up to before he comes to the orphanage? 'I expected to hear something like "there's a spell that I know" blah, blah, blah not-URGH! Men! **Men**! Honestly now, I think there is not a single male human being who is taking me seriously!' she monologued as she started going up and down, hands finally entwined and one could see she was very distraught.

'Well, that I can guarantee you;' he received another blow to the arm along with a glare 'or did you think Michael likes you for your pretty, pretty eyes?'

But that worked like a tranquillizer; she stopped showing any kind of indignation or annoyance and just stood there, looking distinctively away with an utmost stubborn look fixated on her face. 'Wait, you're not arguing back? I'm _right_!'

She couldn't feel smuger...(if that was a word) and more satisfied than she did now yet sghe didn't show it. 'Well, maybe…I mean, he does like me romantically so something must have attracted him-we may be both Ravenclaws but he didn't know me immediately so that rules out my oh so colourful personality.' she mumbled a little ashamed yet a little proud of herself, too; he gaped.

'Th-that is the **one** thing you are not supposed to be assuring me of, what's with you? I don't need to know for certain that Michael fancies you because that can only mean that he's told you; and you never tell a girl _that_ unless you are prepared to ask for more of her…-!' suddenly he went close to her and grabbed her shoulders. 'Oh my God, has he done something to you-what is it? You know you can tell me anything.' he was saying as he was mildly shaking her; she laughed a little but tried to stop him.

'Tom, Tom...stop; he didn't do anything to me -of course-, relax. And it wasn't _he_ who told me: he got Jules to tell me so please stop rocking me back and forth, I'm getting kind of dizzy.'

'Oh, sorry.'

He felt stupid; he couldn't believe he had just said and done something like that. Why should he care about her love life –of course the fact she was the one who was so hell-bent on telling each other everything about their romantic interests (and she had gotten upset once or twice with girls that were showing interest in him just with the pretext he didn't tell her he might have been interested in them) was enough to drive him insane and call her a very big hypocrite-? And naturally the only "bad thing" Michael could have done to her would be to try and…kiss her –he was too much of a goody-two-shoes to actually try and, say, rape her- and he knew that so there was no reason to get upset over such a trivial matter.  
Maybe it was because he felt neglected, close to forgotten, because Camellia hadn't contacted him for over three weeks...but that was because she was here to surprise him after all but he hadn't appreciated that sort of feeling. After all the sole reason she was still by his side was that very attentive and caring nature of hers –as moody as it was- so she couldn't be going cold on him now... _even if she once had stopped talking to him for more than half a month and hadn't **he** apologized first, she would have spoken to him after two months the least_.  
Or maybe the very fact they were having such a good time only seconds ago and he felt really content being with her –of all people- for the rest of his last summer in this orphanage and the thought of her having kept such a secret from him just made him mad; after all, despite those _miniscule_ lies about the chamber and Myrtle –OK, maybe about being pro-muggle born rights, too-, _he_ had never lied or hidden something important from her.

'But don't worry; Denis has been hitting on me all afternoon for the sole reason he thinks we are together-'

'Camellia!'

'-so will you tell me what you've been up to these…four, approximately, weeks you've been away?'

And then he realized what he had gotten himself into; this girl, the one person he couldn't harm (coz if he did he'd die and he figured it wouldn't be the best thing) was the one person who was like a human lie detector: unless he did some sort of great, grand gesture -like the one with Myrtle- then she wouldn't be convinced about anything and quite frankly he had ran out of those. But he hadn't run out of bad deeds because that silly ol' thing he was up to before he came here was…well, killing his father. And his grandparents. That would not sound nice and he knew she would get it out of him somehow so he was in -what the others would call- a bind right now. A very difficult bind, too that he had to get over quickly.  
But what would be the best course of action in this situation? He considered. All of these going through his mind in seconds, he decided on the only thing he figured he could do: tell her the truth. And he'd work it out from there.  
Instead of saying anything to her, he only grabbed her by the hand and hastily led her up the stairs where they arrived -much earlier than he had intended- to his room (that was still dirty and smelt like closure). He got her in, still not letting go of her hand, and after checking more than twice that no one followed them or hid behind any walls to eavesdrop –he swore he saw Bill spotting the two of them running upstairs in such an alarmed state- he also shut the window, sat down on the bed and dragged the girl in front of him, now both of his hands clutching hers.

All the while, she was docilely doing exactly as he was gesturing for the only reason she knew that after this he would be telling her everything, the complete truth. So she just went along…

* * *

'Around the same time I found out I was the heir of Slytherin and found out my mother's real name, I decided that should I not manage to stay at Hogwarts for the summer I'd track down my heritage. Thus I started searching for some clues or maybe an address for the remainder of my mum's family –as I was convinced I'd never found my dad's- and indeed, as soon as I got out of the train, I started looking for that house I saw recorded as the last known residence of the Gaunt family…And that's when everything went wrong.'

Up till then he hadn't spared a single look for her, merely looking down to his hands, but suddenly he looked up in her eyes –who were watching intensely- and looked down again just as swiftly. By his speech alone one could understand his tone was urgent and summarizing and he was in distress. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion of what she might hear from this point onward but she didn't interrupt him as his way of speaking made it clear he didn't want to be interrupted or he might not have found the courage to go on. So she shut it. But his pause was not just for dramatic effect after all because he let her hands go and ran his through his hair troubled; but quickly he took her hands into his again as he let out a heavy sigh.

'I went to Little Hangleton; that was where the house was supposed to be. So I looked around the area…and there I found it: a little house, almost a hut, rundown and abandoned with grass and moss growing all over it. I wanted to go in but hesitated for a moment; was this all that the great house of Slytherin had come to? And would it be safe to go on inside-maybe someone was still living there…? It looked like a stretch but I went in with wand at the ready, prepared for anything-…' he paused again. 'And there was a short square-looking man with hair long enough not to be able to see, matted with dirt: the son and last heir of Marvolo Gaunt, Morfin Gaunt… my uncle.' He barely said it. 'A horrible person he was; he attacked me-Tom Riddle he thought me, "the filthy muggle"' he spat and she gave a squeeze to his hands 'knife in hand.' she breathed in worried but he went on in time to let her know nothing horrible happened. 'But I stopped him by speaking in Parseltongue; he spoke it, too…' he sighed again. 'And that was when he realized; "you look mighty like that Muggle" he said "that muggle what lives in the big house over the way" he said…but that he was older now and I looked just like him when he was young…I immediately knew, even before he said his name, that the person he described was my father; and "he come back, see" he said-couldn't even speak right…he came back after he'd abandoned my mother! Morfin explained it-somewhat; he called her a slut-a slut!' she squeezed his hand even harder, looking utterly shocked and more empathetic yet. He stopped, trying to smother sob, took a deep breath and continued; he steadied his voice. 'He told me she deserved to be deserted because he married **a muggle**'

'Ah!'

'-and robbed them of Slytherin's locket, the insensitive idiot; and I was so angry-angry at him, angry at that person he described as my father, angry at the world for what had happened to me-…and that's when tragedy struck.'

'_I don't believe it…you don't know, but he's actually been __**very**__ honest with her: that might have even been Morfin's exact way of saying it…!' Harry said thoroughly surprised; the others looked shocked but kept listening and watching the two 16-year-olds in front of them._

He stopped, his voice dangerously resembling a hateful growl, and gulped; she looked on edge as she was expecting him to go on but he dared not look at her all this time. He knew if he wanted to say and be done with it and have her on his side he should say the truth and if he was to say the truth then under no circumstances should he look at her face to face as he'd never be able to admit it. Plus, if he wanted to sound the broken hearted young man who was devastated by his uncle'σ oh so cruel words he had to sound sad and not angry. 'Tragedy in the form of…death.' She gave him the first wondered, suspicious yet somewhat afraid look of that night but still didn't react and let him go on without saying anything again. 'My uncle Morfin remembered his old hatred with all the muggles and especially with the certain ones as in no more than half a day he returned to the house of my supposed father and killed him; killed him and my grandparents.'

'**NO**!'

He sounded stern and absolute as he said those while she was in a state of shock. 'Exactly, no…' the disbelief and fear returned to her face anew. 'Because even if that is what everyone thinks, my "father and grandparents" didn't die by my uncle's hand…but mine.'

* * *

Her chin dropped; she froze completely; he could feel her hand shaking in his violently yet her feet didn't seem to be able to carry her away. He didn't do anything at all, neither let her go nor squeezed her hand, but suddenly he changed colour: his face went significantly paler and his lip started trembling.

The two of the three watching them were as shocked as she was; had he really just admitted such a thing to her-one of his deepest and most effectively covered secret? And if so why would he do that, especially confessing that to her, the only person he couldn't "dispose of"? Of course Hermione knew which was why she was so much calmer yet she herself seemed to be anxious and waiting for something to happen, something different…

'I swear I didn't plan to-I didn't want to kill them but…I went to his house. After all the terrible things Morfin said about that man I just had to know for myself what really happened and who that man really was-so I knocked on the door. It wasn't hard to find, it really was just over the way: a big house, beautiful and well-taken care of…' he said purely informationally but then his face hardened 'the exact opposite of its tenants: horrible people disguised with the cloak of wealth and good manners. The one who answered the door was my father, oddly enough-they had just returned and all the servants had left with a leave or something so I was let in without him even realizing I was his son-he spared no look for me.' he was spiteful and angry but he immediately closed his eyes as if he were in some sort of pain and looked down and away; meanwhile she was just listening to him fighting inside of her for either hating him or empathizing with him. She chose none.

'I was half way to the drawing room when he'd looked back and saw me-saw my face…he was left gaping at me for over than a minute. He screamed; immediately his parents pranced in. They were left chindropped, too until they realized what was happening –much easier than him- and kept looking between the two of us. Saw himself from the past he finally said, a spitting image of their son they added…a grandson.'

He almost smiled for a moment but then his face lost the entire colour it might have gotten back, completely ashen. 'But obviously I was wrong in even remotely thinking I could make a new start with my newly found family because…their shock was one of absolute horror instead of mere surprise-or even some joy, nothing! They immediately tried to make me leave quietly, buy my silence with money or a promise of communication if only I just leaved from their house and if I really wanted to see them again they'd…arrange a meeting; a meeting! Their own grandson…! My dear father' the sarcasm was almost visible like when a snake injects poison 'didn't even speak; he was just sitting there pale and mute, looking everywhere but me. When I tried to explain I wanted none of their _filthy money_ and the only reason I'm here is because I wanted to meet my family in person, they started threatening accusing me; I snapped! I started shouting how it was all his fault my mother died and if he really was as sorry as he claimed he wouldn't have left or he'd check up on her and then I got my wand out-only to show him how I could do magic and he started screaming-then everyone started screaming, how I was just like my freak mother who was never good enough and then I was never good enough-how he was right to dump her and go, how I was never part of his plans-he even said not only was I a mistake but also I wasn't supposed to be alive since if he knew she'd have me he'd make her have an abortion and...-and I just couldn't take it, I wanted quiet, I wanted to hear myself think but I-I couldn't, they kept shouting and calling me a mistake, a spare, not needed and then…I didn't know what happened: at one moment I was shouting for them to shut up and then-…silence. Then a scream; then I saw my grandfather collapsing; my grandmother fell on her knees. I didn't even realize I'd said the spell until I saw him lying dead in her arms-I'd killed him but I didn't-my father was dead and so was my grandfather by the heart-attack I gave him for killing his son and my grandmother was chanting "kill me, kill me"…and she stood up with a knife and attacked me and before I knew it I-…'

He started sobbing again, his voice long broken, his breath short; her eyes were filled with silent tears as she listened to his frightful story. She was trying her hardest not to collapse (or run away and never look back) while, at the same time, she was trying to find a way to be there for him seeing this caused him so much pain and agony. 'And I killed her, too-couldn't let any witnesses roaming about; but she even looked…happy to go with the rest of them. I-I'm so sorry, Camellia I'm really sorry.' He grabbed her by the waist firmly and buried his face in her bosom, looking like a child admitting a foul doing to his mother…only this child was a little too old and this foul doing was a little too evil. Losing her balance when he did that, she straddled him sitting in his lap.

'Tom…'

'I'm sorry Camellia, I really am; I didn't want to be so extreme but-he was saying all those horrible things and-and-and…I know that this won't bring them back but…I don't want to go to Azkaban, I don't!'

'But…you did kill all those people Tom and if you don't come out and say it then your uncle Morfin will get punished for nothing…you have to confess this to the Aurors.'

He started shaking hard at the mere mention of the word "Aurors" and hugged her even tighter; he already sounded as if he was crying but now it was worse. 'Please! I don't want to die in Azkaban or even be there with all the Dementors; I never had any real happy memories to ward them off to begin with so I'll probably die in a month-'

'TOM!'

'-so please help me! Just this once. And I promise' he paused to show his conviction 'if I ever get even remotely close to angry-...I'll immediately throw away my wand or-or cast a spell to myself; anything to prevent this from happening again so please…don't tell…'

* * *

This was bad; she could feel herself being torn into two: herself as Camellia Adams, the pride and joy of the Adams' police officer –her father- who should immediately report this to the authorities since he even had time to cover up his crime so effectively and should under no circumstances harbour a criminal…but then again there was that other part of herself who simply loved and empathized with that much, much flawed person in front of her who nevertheless –or maybe _because_ he was so flawed- she cared deeply about and wanted to protect and fix. Maybe fixing him should start by making him take responsibility for his actions or rather face their consequences and maybe they would be lenient on him considering the whole situation but...

'Please Camellia…help me…'

All this time she was physically involved in this as not only was she squeezing his hands back before she grabbed her but now she was also caressing his hair and petted his back…but if she was physically involved, comforting him instead of following her first instinct –as she always did in all the rest situations- then she was already an accomplish without her realizing.

She sighed. 'Alright Tom.'

He looked up at her for the first time, his eyes bloodshot. 'What?'

'You'll have it your way; I won't tell a soul.' He looked at her like she had just promised him candy: ecstatic yet disbelieving. 'So you can relax now…'

'…thank you…!' he said so relieved one could not describe it in words; he went back to hugging her, only this once she rested his head on her shoulder. 'Camellia...I'm scared…please don't, don't leave me…'

The tears welling up in her eyes finally found their reason to escape their prison; as she closed them he could feel her tears falling on his back. 'I won't leave you Tom, I never will; you should know by now I'll always be here for you.'

'Please don't go-never! Not you, too…' he said like he hadn't heard her and for a moment she was certain he hadn't…

But she couldn't have been more wrong: his eyes flashed a deep red colour, his face momentarily losing all signs of woe from a moment ago and a smirk took over. Things were going better than he had ever anticipated: her mother instincts kicking and in leading the way, hand-in-hand with her feelings for him…His shameful display of "feelings" had done the trick as he had anticipated and he was even surprised to see he wasn't completely lying to her; if anything, he felt better to say it to someone, he felt as though something had lifted from his shoulders. That was odd...too bad he couldn't tell her the truth about Myrtle, too. Then he immediately changed back.

'I'll _never_ leave you-that's my promise to you; you're my friend and I love you, I would never do that to you.' she kissed him on top of his head. 'Ever' she kissed him again 'not even if my life depended on it.' She kissed him again but this once on the cheek, as he had looked up fazed. 'So trust me and please don't say that, OK? I won't betray you.'

'Camellia…' he muttered in a daze; as she leaned in to kiss and hug him for the final time he reached up and brought her even closer to him; without her realizing what he was doing, he purposely missed her cheek and instead he kissed her parted lips.

* * *

**'...!'**

He didn't give her much chance to react: he was kissing her forcefully –she, locked in his arms- as he leaned in deepening the kiss; she was kissing back –something that in all honesty required but little effort from the young dark lord's part- while her hands were griping his clothes and -now messy- hair. He switched their positions with ease -almost lying her on the bed- yet in such a way that somehow both could go back to the previous position should they wish so.

'Oh. My. God!' Harry exclaimed shocked yet a morbid smile crept to his features, a smile that Ron needn't hiding.

'Voldemort scores!'

'Ronald!'

'What-just look at them!'

'Ronald! This is a very crucial moment in their life, a turning point even so hush!'

This was the moment Hermione's been waiting for ever since she poured this memory: their first. Kiss. She'd pictured it quite a few times even when she was reading the book but ever since she gave a face to the girl, she couldn't stop imagining it. But as she was watching it develop right in front of her, it was so overwhelming that she could only hear herself recite Voldemort's writing to describe it adequately:

"Her fleshy red lips tasted a mixture of cherry and chocolate as well as that unique strong flavour only she could have; I felt her soft skin and hair under the tips of my fingers and the sense of her thighs entwined with mine excited me even more.  
I felt electrified.  
I could feel every single part of my body she touched or brushed against energized while her hot breath gave me new life; this was an entirely new experience for me who –even if I had no practise in the certain field- seemed like I could do no wrong as my whole body moved on its own only to heighten the pleasure. As I lay clad in her embrace, just as she lay in mine, our lips had started a stubborn fight for dominance and I could feel a new desire rising within me the more I kissed her: a burning sensation to explore the rest of her luscious body with my hands –that were already trying to do so, completely acting on their own-.  
_Lust_…  
I hadn't expected things to go towards that direction **yet** –I had always expected something **would** eventually happen between us- still I couldn't feel much more satisfied they did, _even if it was out of schedule_. And with her declaration of loyalty –a declaration I knew to be true- I had nothing to fear I may compromise with my daredevilry.  
She was completely and irrevocably mine.  
But all good things have to come to an end and so had this; thus, when the kiss reached its peak and neared its end, I realized it was time to let go (as it wouldn't be too wise to lose control now and merely spoil the momentum). Yet, I knew her heart belonged to me and from what I'd observed if one has that then there's no way an earnest and loyal girl like her would give herself away to someone else. So I stopped my advance -thankfully synchronized with her own retraction- and we both reverted to our pre-kiss position.  
But then something unexpected happened…"

The kiss ended; she went back to her previous position –as did he- gasping for air...yet the first thing she did was far different from what Hermione, Harry and Ron's girl did to their first kiss: instead of resting her forehead on his or look deeply into his grey eyes or even say something, she only took an expression of utter amazement as a hand rested on her now swollen lips. Then she unceremoniously stumbled off his lap, backing up a step or two and, after swallowing a couple of times –hand still on lips- she…turned around and started for the door!

'Wow, what!'

'Come on, he can't be a bad kisser-she was practically eating his face a moment ago!'

'Ronald!'

But the young dark lord appeared just as bewildered: he looked searchingly at her and after they locked eyes for a brief moment he watched her flight, unable to follow because she had shook her head, trying to communicate "don't" _run after me_, he guessed.

'Camellia-!'

* * *

As she disappeared behind the door, he did try to run after her but he was unsuccessful in the end…because when he tried he realized he shouldn't be standing. Not just yet anyhow. 'Oh bloody great!' he monologued as he re-seated himself immediately, grabbing the dusted pillow, placing it on his lap, squeezing it tightly to hide himself. 'Oh not now, come on; go down go down!'

As the door was left half-open, he saw Mrs Cole approaching. '_Oh bloody_-Hello Mrs Cole; how may I help you?'

'You can start by finally cleaning this room.' she said in her usual absolute way.

'Right away ma'am.'

'And then you can help your classmate with her chores.' she said less imperatively yet as curtly; his eyes shone at that.

'That'll most certainly do, ma'am.' he said with emphasis; things haven't gone entirely as he'd expected so that would put him in the right track.

'Good; on to it then' he nodded '…unless you have some unfathomable attraction to hugging pillows.'

If this wasn't such a situation he'd maybe laugh. 'Just a stomach ache, nothing too bad but give me a moment.'

As soon as he'd said that he knew she'd be off his case since this woman was always soft on people –especially underaged ones- who were ill or generally not feeling well. 'Oh alright young man; be up and running in ten minutes-I'll come to check on you.'

'I'll be as good as new by then!'

'Good.' she said as she was leaving, closing the door behind her.

_Thank God that's over-I hope no one else comes; now how do I get rid of this-? __But of course!_**_ Dumbledore!_** He closed his eyes and started repeating the word in his mind; a moment later he threw the pillow aside. 'Who knew he would be useful about anything! Now let's get this room cleaned and then this mess of a situation, too.'

And then he thought it through; this could develop into a good or a bad situation according to how he'd handle it: he could either just go along with it and they could start dating –something that would certainly disrupt the situation with the pure-blooded gits but improve the state of things with Camellia- or pretend nothing ever happened and leave things as they were before the kiss –and brag about it to his pure-blooded gits but worsen the situation with Camellia-. He considered; he decided to pretend nothing had happened between them and leave things as "just friends"... for now at least-maybe till Hogwarts was out of the way, too. So the next time he'd see her he should probably set things straight. But for what was worth he should let the girl come to him, he shouldn't –and good thing he didn't- pressure her.

So all he had to do was wait…

* * *

Dirty dark lord; and see? He considers Dumbledore useful for something! XD I had so much fun writing this you can't even imagine; this chapter and the next! Please read and review to let me know what you though of it, too!


	19. The afterglow

My personal record: 9000+!

* * *

Five days.

Five days had passed since _then_ -only in some seconds for the three watching- yet Camellia hadn't so much as gone _near_ him out of her free will; the little times they were together was because they had chores and even then they weren't completely alone, someone was always around. What was wrong? Why hadn't she come to him as he'd expected her to and why was it that she was acting like nothing had happened when other people were around, yet the moment they were gone so was she?

Tom was standing alone against the wall, looking close to angry while watching something across the cafeteria; they zoomed in on that something only to find it was Camellia in the kitchen, helping with the food and the servings. He was intently glaring at her, hoping he'd catch her eye at some point.  
Suddenly he flinched; he saw –and the three noticed- Camellia leaving after disposing of her apron on the counter and then getting lost somewhere at the back. Tom didn't lose a single moment: he bolted to her –reaching there in seconds- and spotted Camellia fixing her appearance hurriedly. Huh, probably she was doing it with such haste in order not to stay in one place for too long and encounters Tom...but obviously her luck had just ran out as he approache her in big and decisive steps.

'Camellia.'

Only then did she realize he was somewhere near her: proof of that was the fact she jumped out of her skin at the mere sound of his stern voice; he looked nothing but discontented yet he was expecting her reaction. Still he didn't move an inch or said anything until she spoke back.

'Tom…' she ultimately said with an uncertain smile and tried to evade…but he didn't let her: his hand shot out and blocked her escape route all too indelicately; she looked at his face for the first time. 'Hi…' she said with a guilty smile, playing with her fingers.

'Hello to you, too…how are you? Been coping alright?'

'Fair enough…' not able to stand his intrusive stare she tried to leave but his hand was never-moving. 'You?' she asked when she saw there was no chance of him letting this go.

'I've been kind of lonely-you see you've been very distant these past days.' he paused for a moment to give emphasis; she gulped, realizing where he was getting at. He went purposefully close to make her feel uncomfortable while he kept on with his interrogation-like tone. 'Have you been avoiding me Camellia?'

She looked like she had no idea what he was talking about, her eyes suddenly wide. 'A-avoiding you? I haven't been avoiding you…'

'You still can't lie very well darling-'

'_Indeed…' the three watching admitted._

'I am not lying!'

'-but even if I do believe you then what do you call it when you're nowhere to be found and you are not even in the places the people here told me you've been going to the most when I _wasn't_ here?'

'Well, **that** err-you see I just happened to lessen my frequency of visiting those places as well as the duration of those visits due to the fact I didn't want to impose-and I wouldn't be found in my room or even in one place because…I've had a bad feeling about meeting you alone is all…'

'That, I believe, is the very definition of avoiding.'

'Oh. Then yes, I have.' she finally admitted with nothing but a stupid smile.

Oh so now he's right; _this woman is a nightmare_! 'So I noticed…may I ask why?'

She blushed more, looking towards all the directions she could think of but him; how could she say what she really felt and though without being misunderstood?

He, on the other hand, was furious; he figured this whole situation was due to her fear for her "feelings" for him and of him rejecting her –which he planned to-...but that was no reason not to talk to him for five days! After all they were pretending to be a couple. Besides, one day is enough to make you deal with potential rejection, so how "emotional" –insecure in his language- could she be? Yet she was still silent...'What are you waiting for-me growing a beard?'

She chuckled at the mere thought; 'Don't you ever say that again-it sounds plainly ridiculous!' she said as if the previous conversation hadn't happened. But then she realized the light-heartedness of her statement didn't match the mood so she got serious. 'Sorry…I-um, you see I'd come to you sooner but-…' she stopped looking away and finally mustered the courage to face him. 'To be completely honest it feels absolutely weird thinking about what happened and…I can't shake off that funny feeling.'

He knew it. She might have promised she'd never tell and be there for him but kissing her made her freak out thus reconsidering the whole "I'll be there for you" bit! Now he didn't really care about stuff like that but she had promised to never leave him-does her word mean nothing? _Humph_! He rolled his eyes looking a little "withered", faking heartbreak. 'I…it's because of what I told you, isn't it?'

She looked at him as if he was saying the oddest thing in the world but then blushed; only then did she realize she's actually more upset because he _kissed_ her and not because he'd _killed_ someone...which was plainly crazy! How he could he have such a bad effect on her...? 'No, as much as it shames me to admit-you really thought of that, don't you know me at all;' she shook her head 'what you **told** me didn't affect me as much as what you **did**…and the fact I was so easy to respond is also upsetting. I mean-…you'd just told me…_that_…and then you_ snog me_? _And I snog you back-_do you have any idea how wrong that is!' she said in the end incredulously, lowering her voice in case anyone passed by. 'Tom, something is way off with us: when people make declarations as yours then they don't snog people…and people definitely don't snog them back! It's just wrong. It's-it's like a child admitting he broke a vase and the mother instead of punishing him, gives him a reward. You just don't reward children who break vases!' her hands flying everywhere while an over-surprised Tom was watching her talking away.

'Alright, let me get this straight…you don't mind about what I confessed to you but because I…snogged you?'

He didn't mind by what she'd told him -and he actually believed her- but…she was right, it's wrong. She had issues; serious issues.  
That didn't mean **he** didn't of course…

'Yes-and I told you why; besides…it felt like I was...taking advantage of the situation-like _you_ were taking advantage of the situation and that is certainly **not** a good foundation for a healthy or at least a normal relationship...! Not that we ever had one or ever will- but it's too weird, even for us.'

'That's not what happened; what happened was me sharing my deepest secret with you so it is only natural to feel and want to get closer to you so…I did. And when I did it felt good and I could tell it did for the both of us so I don't see why you'd be so upset or guilty about it?'

She looked at him disbelievingly, a little taken aback. 'Wh-…you don't mean to tell me you think, even now that the moment passed, that it was absolutely natural for things to go that way?'

_No…_ 'Yes.' _Wait, why did I say that?_

She gaped. 'Are you serious?'

_No!_ 'Yes.' _What the bloody-hell? No means no! Why do I always have to say the exact opposite of what she's saying just to spite her?_

Still, there was not even a shred of evidence he was **that** conflicted on the inside because he looked nothing but confident; she was still disbelieving but she stopped gawking. 'A-and what are you saying? You want us to go on like this from now on?'

_No-Merlin__ no; I have a plan: I'll break your heart and make you even more vulnerable till I can have what I want!_ 'Why not…?' _Blimey-just say no_!

Why was he being seductive and why was she being so defensive? And why was _he _saying every little thing he expected _to hear_ –and reject- from her? This might have been just his idea, but it felt like the roles were reversed!

* * *

She gaped again; she started shaking her head insensibly in a decisive "no". 'We can't do that Tom, no! We should not under any circumstances date-especially at the particular moment; it's completely wrong timing.'

Why the hell is _she_ saying exactly what he'd _planned_ to tell her! 'Why can't we?'

'Besides of **_all _**the other things I told you -that do provide a very solid reason- need I remind you we have to return to **Hogwarts** in a month or two? Since we practically spend all our free time together there it'll be like we're living together-that's so weird! And there's also **that** matter…'

'What matter?'

'That which you also said yourself: as the nature of your confession compels you to make it only to someone you trust and feel close to then what if you're mistaking that kind of intimacy with another just because I'm a girl?'

'I'm too angry to think, use plain English.'

She rolled her eyes; she hated when he did that because there was no way he didn't understand her, he only wanted to make her -even more- uncomfortable. 'You think you like me more than a friend just because I have boobs!'

That would make sense -if it wasn't him- but he couldn't let her know that. '…But you snogged me back! Doesn't that mean that at least _you_ feel I can be more than a friend!' he retorted fervently, losing all hope of things going as he wished…so he might as well have his way in convincing her to date him.

'Well, yes but that was just because I was completely confused;' _what!_ 'I, I wanted to be there for you because you were torn -and by all means you should be- so I wanted to comfort you; you snogged me so I thought the least I could do was be nice about it-I was just taken in by the moment!'

'So you're saying _I'm just a friend_? So if I were to ask your friends how many of them you have snogged what will they say? If it's yes, that makes you a slut but if it's no, then you're just a hypocrite!'

She rolled her eyes 'I'm _neither_ because-OK, _we_ don't have the relationship I have with them but-…what if all this is, is a comfort zone? What if all I am to you is just a certainty or what if it's the other way round? Can you surely say you are in love with me and that is why you want our relationship to change…or is it just because I'm the safe solution? All I'm saying is I don't feel confident about this; I think we should wait till…Hogwarts is over for instance.'

'That's in two years!' he complained; why was he complaining? He didn't mind; that's what he wanted, too.

'Well _yes_' she drawled 'but that is the best way to get to know our true feelings; even if, after two years, we still want to be together then I guess that pretty much settles it but if we don't then...literally no harm done.'

'And what happens in the meantime? We just go on with our lives as if nothing happened?' he was almost angry, for a reason he couldn't comprehend; sure, he'd rather just convinced her to date him –since he did the stupid thing to say he wanted this to develop into something- but he didn't really _want to_, he only did it to keep up appearances thus he shouldn't he be sour.

'I've been doing that rather successfully the past five days, don't you think?'

He glared at her; 'which is exactly what I've been angry about. And…' he took a rather mischievous look; she knew she wouldn't like what's coming 'what if someone let's say a very impressionable sweet and beautiful girl shows interest in me? And if I, say, start something with her, wouldn't you mind that I did?'

She seethed 'You're free to do as you please with any girl, without any attachments…as am I.' _humph, cheap bastard that was a hit below the belt_, he totally deserved that little bit in the end. 'And **only** after two years will this come up ever again, understood?'

'Yes.' He didn't want to agree –he wanted to keep talking about this so he could mock her to no end- but then again he just couldn't say no…

'And this shouldn't come between us; I value our friendship.'

That little sentence she added in the end rang a horrible sound to his ears: _values their friendship_? Tch, he couldn't sleep with _that_ now could he? Or fondle or touch it! And since he kept having this really strange mood every time he found himself around her for the past five days -as his mind kept automatically returning to when they'd kissed- and it made him think of rather indecent thoughts –and have rather indecent dreams- he wanted relief. And every time he was around her he'd remember those indecent thoughts or dreams and he couldn't help but want to touch her...even if she kept eluding him and the relief never came. He chuckled. 'You are a tough person to bargain with Camellia: you want me to agree to _all_ things, not _some_ things!'

As if someone used a cheering spell the mood changed completely and she reverted to her old self in no time. 'Then that's not bargaining, that's demanding and I'm glad you recognize and meet my demands. Now let's go back; I've been telling everyone we've fought so it's about time "we made up". Come on _dear_.' she said jokingly and offered her arm.

He laughed, even if deep inside him there was a voice that kept whispering to snap her: _since I can't be your real boyfriend, at least I'll be your fake one_. 'You're insane, know that?'

'Well, I did help you get away with murder…'

'Ha-ha; I suppose so. Wait, if I'm your friend even though I know you're insane and it was _me _who committed the crime then what does that makes me?'

'A psychopath?'

_That is true_... all three thought.

He considered. 'I guess.'

She laughed…

For an odd reason all they could hear or see was just that: her laugh. Then they realized another memory came to its end. When they focused again, they saw the office they were occupying before the memory started; Harry blinked rapidly to get used to the change of the light.

* * *

'Ron what are you doing-stop rubbing your eyes.' Hermione said a little worried when she saw her husband doing the same thing over and over again.

He shook his head. 'No bloody-way; no matter how hard I do it the image of what I saw is burnt into my retinas for ever! I just saw Voldemort kissing a girl, my eyes still burn!'

'And here I thought you'd enjoyed it when you first witnessed it, Ronald.' Hermione said rather strictly; he noticed her tone and changed immediately.

'Well…in the beginning; then I realized it was **lord. Voldemort** we were talking about so my eyes now feel like bleeding!'

'Don't be overreactive mate I thought it was pretty cool seeing him like that; disgusting but cool.' Harry said shrugging.

Actually, he was simply dumdfounded lord Voldemort was capable of being like that –even if he **was** pretending-: "emotional" taken in by the moment… He could be taken in by the moment? That was a first; he thought he'd be the type to seduce a girl with a much more forward manner in his mind; maybe more physical as well. Then again that would probably label him a pig –and Harry'd bet Tom didn't want that-…but he also didn't take him for the guy who would agree to two years of abstinence! Then again, he'd made her agree to give him permission to date other girls-heh, the weasel…

'Are there any more memories from the orphanage?' Ron asked in a serious need of a subject change; Hermione noticed it and granted him his wish.

'Actually, one more.'

'And then sixth year, right?' Harry asked but not wondered, more in the lines of looking for confirmation.

'Almost; shall we go now?'

'According to Hermione's watch we only have so much time left before McGonagall comes back for the night so I guess it'll also be the last for the day.' Ron informed; just then Harry snapped his fingers together like remembering something.

'Bloody-hell I completely forgot: Ginny is supposed to be coming tonight, nine o'clock sharp, we better get this over with! I don't want her being mad at me for having to wait at the entrance, too; she's already mad enough I haven't been home a single day…'

'Especially now that you have started trying for your first child.'

Ron's eyes immediately snapped wide-open; noticing it, Harry cursed his luck that Ginny had told Hermione before he told Ron because no matter what, Ron'd always treat Ginny as his baby-sister.

'Shut up 'Mione!'

'Speak up 'Mione!' Ron retorted, casting a murderous look to Harry.

_Oh the drama!_ 'Well, we have no time-McGonagall will be arriving soon; why don't we talk about this after we get back-_if you still remember it_…?' she asked with a nervous smile, fumbling with the pouch containing the next memory; she finally managed to get it open so she dived as soon as she poured it in.

'We'll settle this later…' Ron snapped to Harry and dived, too.

'Ha-ha; sure…' he said to particularly no one (yet he could swear he heard professor Dumbledore chuckle from the background…)

When they all arrived in the memory, they saw they were in Tom's room at the orphanage and he and Camellia were sitting in it together all alone. But as they looked closer, they noticed that they were both crouching over something, speaking vividly while the hooting of two snowy owls caught their attention: they must have received letters from Hogwarts!  
When they looked at the owls, they noticed that they were standing on the ledge of the open window while hooting superiorly and looking down on a black and white cat, who was teasing them.

'Is that Camellia's cat…?' Ron asked, remembering the sleeping kitten from the first memory.

'Yes, it's Jinx-the cat's name is Jinx; and look at Tom and Camellia: they've just received their OWLS results! Let's go closer.' Hermione said impatiently; they all went close to the young "couple" on the bed who was conversing.

'What are you so excited for, you already know them!' Ron snapped.

She shook her head and focused on the two.

* * *

'-and please shoo the owls away; they are disrupting Jinx!'

As soon as she'd said that Tom looked at her wide-eyed –while the owls also looked at her as if she had just said the most ridiculous thing ever thus they stopped hooting-. 'Disrupting your cat? Camellia, Jinx was trying to plug their feathers out not three minutes ago; how are the _owls_ disrupting **her**?'

'Well, she and I are kindred spirits so I know the owls are just…distracting her because they've been distracting **me**!'

'Now you're just using all verbs starting with "d-i-s".'

'_No_; just shoo them away! If I were to do it, I'd probably get bitten…'

He laughed; 'I can definitely see that happening; OK I will…' he said through chuckles and actually did as he was told by "shooing" them.

The owls looked at him most offended that he dared to use the word "shoo" -and even more superiorly than they were looking at the cat- but as they saw he was serious they hooted once more and took off…

'See? You didn't get killed by the dangerous beasts! Now let's see our results-oh I wanna see yours first...! Even though I have no idea why I would be excited; I bet you have only "O"s!'

He smirked. 'Maybe that's why we should look at _yours_ first;' she glared 'we can even make up a game for your report: find the "O"-! Ah-ow, ouch!' he exclaimed as she started hitting him.

'That's for being an inconsiderate prat; I will most certainly not have only one bloody "O". Anyway, let's just see your report first.'

He enjoyed mocking her about her grades as they were **always** lower than that of an average Ravenclaw -and most definitely his as well- and it was both amusing and ego-boosting...so he kept doing it even if it caused him pain.

He started reading his card over. 'Let's see: Astronomy-O; Charms-O;'

She snatched the report card from his hands.

'Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic-O; Potions…what a shock, it's an O; Transfiguration…' she stopped talking for dramatic effect 'O!' she said genuinely surprised. 'Heh, for a moment there I thought he'd be giving you an EE; anyway, elective subjects: Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures...A' He gaped. 'Only joking;' he glared at her 'it's O of course-ha-ha, I think you almost had a heart-attack…!' she puckered her lips in distaste. 'Oh what a surprise: you have only Os; I never saw that coming.' she said emotionlessly and looked at him with empty eyes.

'Let's just look at yours.' He cleared his throat. 'Astronomy, Charms-EE, Defence Against the Dark Arts-…A' he said strictly and looked at her accusingly; she turned red.

'I know I should've studied harder but…- it was Jules birthday that week and then Michael invited us to dinner and-' she said, her voice suddenly the same sound as a twelve-year-old girl's as she played with her hair.

'Save it for someone who cares;' still he felt his hair stand straight out of sheer annoyance when she mentioned Michael 'let's go on: Herbology-A; History of Magic, Potions-EE; ha, you'd better! If there was anything less than EE after all the tutoring I'd done for you I'd be giving you detention!'

She looked at him apathetically again. 'Yes professor.'

He ignored her and went on with the grades but only after sparing a teacher-like glare for her 'Transfiguration-…what a shock, O.' he snapped at her the same line she'd snapped at him, making her laugh 'Now elective subjects: Arithmancy-…O!' he paused. 'You got an O-you really did!'

'...I'd guessed as much; why so shocked?'

'Well…I never thought you'd be getting an "O" at-…ahem, well done.' He honestly hadn't expected her to go so well in any other subject than Dumbledore's! 'Care of Magical creatures-…A.' he paused again but for a different reason. 'Camellia! Do you ever pay attention? Do you ever study!'

'No; go on.'

He shook his head; she'd never learn. 'Divination-EE, Muggle Studies...-T! You failed!' he snapped and glared at her; it was _Muggle_ Studies how could a _muggle_ fail?

'I know; the teacher hates me so I decided to drop it.'

'Oh...' that was a fair reason. 'Anyway,finally is Study of Ancient Runes-O; wait-another O, that is amazing!'

She glared at him very annoyed. 'Just 'because I can't be bothered sucking up to teachers and live with my nose stuck in a book all day it doesn't mean I am stupid-I'm Ravenclaw for pity's sake! I just hate these stereotypes about Ravenclaws…'

'Yeah, and I can see you do all in your power to prove them wrong…hang on, you have two more subjects here…but no grades though, only comments: Ancient Studies-"very good smart and active; one of my best students"…very well! And the other…Ghoul studies.' He immediately looked at the girl in utter criticism. 'Really Cam', Ghoul studies; might as well have picked-…never mind. Let's see, the teacher says: "innovative papers and interesting fresh ideas; fitted for decision-making"...! He's in love with you.'

She laughed. 'Stop, I'm just interested in such things…And it's a "she".'

_A she_? That gave him ideas… 'Fine but...maybe that's why you get so many As; if you took less subjects I bet you'd perform much better in the rest which are those who actually _matter _for your future! Look: you take thirteen subjects while I take…ten! Three subjects is a big difference and to see you perform the best in the extra-curriculum ones…'

'But I do like them better.' she said shrugging; he shook his head again.

'I'll never figure you out; just make sure you do well enough to be able to be an Unspeakable like you want to…'

She smirked; 'That is a given…Anyway; would you please go fetch us something to eat? I'm starved!'

'Well if you were starved like this every day then you might have actually lost some weight by now!'

'Tom-!'

'Only joking; I think I like you better with a little more weight; your boobs get _huge-_!'

Before he manages to finish his sentence –and she starts hitting him ruthlessly (finally with a decent reason)- he made a run for it; yet he could still hear the girls curses, all the way from down the stairs.

He smirked; she's good at one thing at least: entertaining him. Alright, maybe she's good at keeping secrets, too. And make him feel better about himself when he really needed it. OK, she's good at a lot of things! But the oddest part of all it was that when she wouldn't speak to him, he'd felt particularly awkward she wasn't there to drive him crazy. And he felt quite strange being by himself-dealing with himself. He hadn't really thought about killing his family as a bad thing but her reaction, -that subtle way of being shocked, scared yet so righteous at the same time- made him think twice of his actions: after her little fit with Myrtle -how she was just a little innocent girl who was falsely attacked- had him **himself** thinking Myrtle needn't dying. She'd almost made him think that he should have waited for a little while and maybe dispose of someone else in her stead...the occasion with his family was somewhat different: he did think they needn't dying…because they could make perfect slaves! Alas, the deed was already done. But he had gained another Horcrux out of it-the ring he was currently wearing was proof of that much…  
She was a bad influence on him, the purebloods were right after all, because if he _dared_ have second thoughts about killing those filthy muggles who dared to imply he was not good enough for the likes of them then he was clearly being affected by Camellia. Because all those things he'd told her that had happened to Little Hangleton were true-all of it: they really treated him with suspicion and then outright hostility, thinking because they had _money_ they were superior and even tried to buy his kinship with it (the reason he was so truthful with her was the fact he just couldn't lie to her; why he couldn't lie to her though was still a mystery to him). What he **had** lied to the girl about was him being sorry about it; he was never sorry about it-and even if but for a moment he'd thought they shouldn't have died he didn't feel sorry, only that he missed a chance.  
Oh well, he had gone to great lengths to convince her last time with Myrtle so he was very glad he didn't have to do anything else than cry to her…

He looked at his hand; how silly…because Camellia had witnessed a death he resorted to such extreme measures to convince her he's innocent. But now should anything happen that required the girl to be quiet then he could only talk her into staying silent. And this stupid wound still hurt him and, even if it was somewhat healing, it still wasn't _fully_ healed as it was very deep. And sometimes if he used his hand in an activity for long -like quidditch or writing- it would ooze some blood.  
…speaking of which was it his idea or was the cut glowing a bright red colour? No, that must have been due to the fact he was staring at it for so long; and was it his idea or did it actually start to hurt, even if he wasn't doing any sort of physical activity…?

'Ah!'

A sharp pain shot through his whole bloody: his scarred hand was to blame; he really wasn't imagining it, it did cause him pain. But why? 'Ah!' another sharp yet brief pain of the same frequency –if not higher-… but this once chills ran down his spine; the hand that just a moment ago looked almost healed now had blood covering all of it-blood that came from that damn-wound! He felt woozy; he had no idea how much blood he had lost or what the blazes was happening to him.

Could it be…?

He turned about and as fast as his legs would carry him, he ran back to his room...where he and Camellia'd been not five minutes ago, where he'd left her alone…if his thinking was correct then something bad must have been happening to her! And in order for her to be physically hurt it only means she'd either done something stupid or someone was hurting her!  
He closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate, -almost seeing double- and tried to focus as hard as he could when he opened them again; it worked…somewhat. Yet now that the tiring flat of stairs was over, he felt accomplished he reached his room.  
He took a deep breath and, seeing the door was closed, –even if he clearly remembered leaving it open- turned the doorknob… but nothing! The door was locked! But how could it be, the key was inside the room, he put it there-so that meant it was locked from the inside; but who locked it-Camellia or...? 'Bloody hell-**Camellia**! **Open this door now**!'

…no sound. And then another sharp pain! 'Urgh-damn it!' Only this once, it was stronger; and longer!

…Then a scream! 'Tom? **Tom**! I can't-**KYAH**!' his blood froze; the scream was identical to the one he heard seconds ago…and it belonged to her-and another surge of pain. 'Get away from me-Tom break the door down!'

He had lost a lot of blood: with every scream or pain he felt the blood ran out like a fountain –even if it stopped right after that- and he must have lost too much by now as he was barely able to see straight. But if this much happened to him, then the girl must have been in much pain…pain that someone inflicted upon her.

_Can it be Denis_?

His blood –as much as he had left- boiled at the thought alone; how dared that filth lay even a finger on what was his? And how could he cause her so much pain to begin with? Well in a way he should be thanking him as he finally figured what would happen to him if the girl ever got hurt –he'd never tried it before-…

'KYAH; YOU BASTARD!' she screamed-then another shout; he could feel himself being drained…But that was also the wakeup call-he had to go in there and stop him or else he'd bleed to death...and who knew how much Camellia was suffering?

Even if he couldn't hear anything else than her loud screams, even if his vision was blurry, even if his knees were shaking he knew he had strength left: he picked himself up from the floor and with all his might, he crashed on the door...! It moved but didn't break so he tried again; and again…until finally he heard a loud "CRACK!" and he fell with the door.

'AH! Oh Tom...Are you-' panting 'alright-?' suddenly her caring voice became cruel and she grabbed him protectively, looking somewhere Tom couldn't see. 'Stay away from us!' she barked; Tom finally looked up: he was right, it **was** Denis.

When Tom focused on him he could clearly see Denis's face was distorted by plain hatred –a feeling Tom could understand yet throw right back at him- while he was brandishing a knife that had actually blood on it; as soon as Tom realized what that meant, he snapped!

'Oh, stay away, is it? Why? And why, even though **he** is the bad guy, **he** is the one who always gets the praise? Ever since he came back from that private school of yours he acts like a different person and everyone respects him: Mrs Cole forgot everything he'd done to me and the others and then gave him his own key-Amy idolizes him while he and Billy get along just fine! And now you, too? Am I the only one who can see him for whathe really is? So _you_ stay away from him or else-STAY DOWN RIDDLE! Don't know who the hell stabbed _you_-'

'I stabbed myself you bastard!'

Tom attacked him so suddenly Denis could barely see him coming; he knocked the knife out of his hands, sent it flying; then he made sure the girl was out of Denis's field of vision: he had hidden her by literally shoving his face in Denis's…and a second later his punch.

'Ugh!' clutching his nose, Denis staggered backwards.

Tom took advantage of the situation and punched him again; Denis's head shot back and forth. He was getting dizzy: damn that Tom, he had a mean punch even if he appeared to be so weakened. 'What did you do to her?' Tom asked, when he realized he could actually see much better now, as if the blood he'd lost had somehow came back to him; he felt his blood boil even more and he didn't know if it was due to his anger or not but he could feel his strength returning to him. So he took a risk and punched him even harder…he heard a loud crack and then saw blood running down Denis's nose: he must have broken it…  
Admirably.

'I asked you a question you coward-coming in here with a knife, threatening a girl; what d'you do to her?' he shook him by the collar. 'I asked you. A question: **what**. Have you done to her?'

He punched him again, shook him and then kneed him at the stomach; Denis could no longer fight back. 'Will you not answer?' he shook him again. '**Will you not answer, you bastard**?'

'Heh; we're both bastards, right?' he said, gargling some blood. 'So...what will you do if I don't answer? Will you kill me Riddle?'

That's what shook Camellia; she was struggling with herself to regain focus, as she could feel her cuts burn hot with every try to stand while blood flowed from them; shit, he'd gotten her good! But as soon as she'd heard that, she immediately overcame her fatigue or pain and all she could think of was what Denis had said and what Tom had confined in her… If he'd killed his own family only recently then who was to tell he wouldn't lose control again in such a short amount of time?  
Scared, -for Denis losing his life and Tom losing his freedom- she stood up with great effort and launched herself on Tom…who was now beating the life out of Denis quite literally.

'How dare you be smart with me?' a punch 'Are you challenging me?' an elbow to the stomach 'Do you **want** to die? Is that it, that's why you even _thought_ of harming what's **mine**?' he kneed him on the head 'You-!'

'Tom stop, stop! You're _killing him_, don't you see? Please don't kill him…!'

She wasn't just talk: she had wrapped herself around him in an effort to stop him; she'd tried to make her voice the calmest possible in order to bring some peace to him, too. 'I'm alright, see?' she let go of his hands, seeing Tom had stopped hitting the very beaten-looking man. She cradled his face, staring directly into his eyes. 'Sure I'm a little hurt but, look, it is nowhere near life-threatening, look!'

He refused to look at her, but she made him take a thorough look; she secured eye contact. 'Now let go, let him be…'

* * *

Tom was beating him senseless; all he knew was that this man tried to ridicule him in more ways than one just by daring to do something like this to his –supposed, but Denis didn't know that- girlfriend.

All he could see was red.

But within the red mist of his mind, something started bringing him back to reality: a distant voice that seemed to stir something at the back of his mind-and then a face. He knew that face…it was Camellia's! He looked closer. An eye was blackened; a cheek was scraped and some blood had dried there; a lip was cut…but moving-the mouth was moving; she was saying something! But what was she saying…?

_Now let go, let him be_…

Her voice was distant, but she felt close; he tried to focus again. She'd said let go; let go of whom? Oh that's right, Denis! But wasn't he trying to harm her just a moment ago…?

'Why?'

'Huh?'

'Why should I let go of him…?'

She was wondering: had he always been so dangerous when angered…? And if he was, then how come he wasn't nearly as threatening to her? But now she could see why he'd killed them: he had completely lost consciousness of what he was doing and looked lost, as if he wasn't himself anymore but his true person was standing next to him, watching someone else do it. Her skin crawled. '…did you not hear me?' that was an honest question. 'If you do not stop, he'll die; you don't want to be responsible for his death do you?' somehow she felt he shouldn't answer her this question because the answer would scare her.

'But didn't he hurt you?'

'You hurt him, too and if you continue hurting him you'll go to jail-forget Azkaban!' at the mention of the word, he seemed to come to his senses a little. 'And forget Hogwarts for that matter!' now he snapped completely awake!

'Oh no…I did it again!' he monologued scared of his own self, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He looked at his hands and saw more red, only this once it was tangible…blood!  
Blimey, he'd beaten Denis that much?

He looked at him to see what he'd done: Denis was lying on the floor, eyes half-closed, blood dripping out of his mouth, oozing from several cuts and bruises…but he wasn't dead; his chest still went up and down in the same monotone rhythm. But now that Camellia saw him like this she knew how he could get-now she could even suspect him if she ever heard something had happened to someone…but deep inside he felt scared. He knew when he got very angry he could no longer think straight and sometimes he would even black out when he was furious –just like that time with his parents: he still couldn't place exactly when it was when he had killed them-. Then he'd feel like he'd just woken up from a short slumber and he'd see what he'd done…and then try to clean or cover it up because he tended to lose control in a very bad way and never, not once the people around him could make him find his focus again.  
But now it was different. When she had launched herself and then started talking to him, he could actually hear her, he could actually see her, she could actually stop him…

He felt his stomache turn at the sudden realization; he shouldn't be admitting these kinds of things to himself, especially if she was currently holding him like that because it might give her the wrong idea-or worse, give **him** the wrong idea. Besides, this was just an act, from his behalf, to keep the girl –and the secrets she was entrusted with- close to him and nothing else, nothing at all…! Right?

'I thought you promised to stop; you said you'd try controling yourself! Please, calm down…'

She was trying to comfort him because he looked scared of his own self; he was acting to be scared in order to hide the fact he was worried she could stop him even when he'd lose control.

'I'm-I'm better now, I'm sorry. I swear I'll try harder it's just that I never expected **you **to get hurt and I got hurt, too because of the vow and-…' he was excusing himself but suddenly he remembered: 'oh no, you're hurt, aren't you-where?' he said hotly and looked her over a couple of times, grabbing her by the shoulders.

'Tom I'm-…not hurt too badly, he missed anything vital. Just relax and let's think.' hand on chin 'If we do nothing pertinent to…Hogwarts then the "you-know-who" people won't get involved. But if we don't then when the police'll come he'll tell them the whole truth and not only him but _you, too_ will be persecuted or be put in a cell because he will testify you are dangerous and if I hadn't stopped you then he might have died-he's still awake!' they both looked at Denis, lying on the floor conscious and looking confused. 'And if that happens then you know that Dumbledore will look into everything and then your family's…_misfortune_ will be…'

He immediately understood what she's getting at: should the police arrest him and Dumbledore looks into it he'd see his family died in such a short amount of time, he'd be able to pin it on him and then he'd...! 'Oh God no! We must do something!'

Camellia ran to the door and, after making sure no one was around, shut it. 'I know and I have a plan…we'll stupefy him and then erase his memories thus when the aurors come we'll be able to twist the story exactly as we want! And I'll write a letter to Dumbledore explaining how we got into "trouble" and I bet that when the time comes he'll most certainly defend me!'

'Erase my memories? What are you two-…talking about? Aw...!' What did they exactly mean by that? How could they "stupefy" him and then "erase his memories"? Did they have drugs-…? But what was that odd-looking wooden stick Tom drew from his pocket…?

'You shut it! Wait-!' she caught Tom's hand that was about to cast the spell, wand at the ready. 'We'll stupefy him with **my** wand and erase his memories with yours but we'll claim we did it the other way round in order to be believable. Do you have my wand with you?'

'"Wand"-you mean...like magic?'

'Shut up Denis!' both snapped.

'Yes, I have it with me; I thought it'd be better if _I_ had both our wands since we're not allowed to perform magic outside of school…but how is it more reasonable-you'll get a disciplinary hearing for sure?'

'I'll get a disciplinary hearing anyway but everything happened in your room! We'll say that you came in with my wand since I didn't have it with me –because we can't do magic- so you fetched it for me but he was about to hit me so you stupefied him; then I, being an expert to this sort of thing, modified his memories with your wand because mine already had two recorded violations!'

'…a bit complicated but makes sense; as long as you _definitely_ get Dumbledore on our side...' something he hated to admit but it was true in this occassion. 'Stupefy!'

Denis was knocked out immediately.

'Good; now gimme your wand.' He hesitated. 'What? I taught you how to do it on the first place remember-give it here?'

'I am not wary you might do something wrong or even my wand being used; it's just that…are you cartain you want to cover this up?'

'…' she looked at him decided. 'I do; now give me your wand; I won't ask for it again.'

He nodded curtly; he knew not why he thought that way but when she got like this, he thought she was very suited for leadership after all and she could easily be head Auror-but he shouldn't hope too much: even if there was a slight chance they ever allowed a mudblood like her to become so important then he was sure she wouldn't want the position: she wanted to be an "Unspeakable"! But at least now he knew one more thing she was good at: plans. Making, executing them and making sure they go right. He was shocked to see she rushed to help him that much but he was satisfied to a very large extent.  
She was truly his…now he finally believed it.

Before he realized, she had finished. 'You're fast!' he exclaimed astonished.

'I know!' she snapped while apparently thinking hard about something else. 'I have to contact Dumbledore immediately; I'll write a letter to him explaining things and given I'm certain we're about to get notifications I'll include those as well. Oh, right in time…'

She was the first to notice the two owls that flew their way: they were eagle owls, more significant-looking than the others from Hogwarts -probably to inspire respect- and as they came into the room through the already-open window they dumped two letters in front of the two. Then flew away.

They looked at each other meaningfully and nodded; both read in silence but one could venture a guess at the context as both children had gone a little paler even if they were actually waiting to receive them. 'Yes, we have a hearing alright!' he said a little angry as he tossed the letter aside; she casted the piece of paper she was holding a very contemptuous look herself.

'Apparently; at least you are not _suspended_ from Hogwarts until further notice.' Her voice was full of annoyance and maybe disgust.

They could all feel their hearts beat faster for the girl-especially Harry! He had faced the exact same fear of never returning to Hogwarts himself and he really hated that feeling and he had wished with all his heart that no one ever experiences it again.

He turned to her appalled. 'They haven't!'

'Oh they have; as off this moment I'm suspended until the hearing on the 28th of August -in a week- which will determine if the suspension will be permanent!'

'Cam', I'm so sorry! Should things go to worse, I'll-!'

' "You'll" nothing because we'll have Dumbledore by our side; he'll manage to get us out of the tight spot.' she said as she was already coming up with a draft for the letter and she looked like she was starting to get absorbed…

He hated how she trusted him so much; Dumbledore could go wrong, too-he was only human after all… 'I trust your decision; I'll leave, give you time to think and why not I take him with me?'

'Ah yes, and don't worry about what he'll say when he'll wake up. I modified his memories as such to think that only the door did it crash him when you came in to defens me. He-he-he.' she snickered at her own inventiveness; he shook his head.

'I'll be back to give you treatment and then we'll see what'll happen with the hearing; let's hope your plan succeeds.'

He shouldered the unconscious boy and walked him to Mrs Cole; too bad he couldn't simply dump him on the floor -instead of putting him on the bed of the small "infirmary" they had- as retaliation for what he'd done; how dared he hurt Camellia? He'd never seen her harmed before and it felt quite unsettling –not considering the fact when she hurt he did, too-. He should pay and he _should have paid_ with his life; Tom always took care of his people and –liked it or not- Camellia was one of those now so anyone in Hogwarts who might've wanted to harm her –the pureblood gits he had for "friends" for instance- knew that so he'd taken it for granted that no one would dare to inflict harm upon her. But apparently Denis didn't. And now that he was taught that lesson he had to forget it…? This might have been the first time he firmly believed in the dogma "one should be held accountable for their actions". How ironic…

* * *

End!

Oh dear! This was so very long! And the funny thing is, Microsoftword says it's only 8.800something-FF cheats! Please review...! And why not message? ^^


	20. The hearing time is now!

New chapter! ~Enjoy!

* * *

'Will this end anytime soon? I have to get Ginny!'

'Harry, someone just tried to _kill_ Camellia –or ravage her, according to Tom- and he just defended her-this is a first for the dark lord...! No matter his motives for doing it. Besides we got to see what happens if the girl gets hurt-he hurts, too only **more** so now he has all the more reason to protect her!'

Ron became a little suspicious though. 'Now wait just a minute: if he suffers _more _than she does then should she be close to death he must have been dead already; how did he manage to kill her without dying then?'

Harry looked at his friend surprised; Ron made a very good observation…but how come Ron noticed that before he did? 'You know, that is a very reasonable question Hermione.'

She smirked; oh how she loved torturing them! And because she was in contact with Ginny when reading the book –and Ginny already knows how it ends- she knew Ginny'd simply love to torture them as well. In fact, they had agreed upon it, that was the stipulation under which Hermione accepted to tell her. And Ginny of course took it.

She wouldn't have taken it originally but then Harry -and Ron- hadn't contacted her for half a week, not at all, not even a piece of parchment thus given Hermione was the only one who did, she decided to fall in league with her.

And since Ginny had the courtesy of supplying both her husband and her brother with clean clothes even if they had kept her in the dark then the least they could do was come to pick her up on time…or else.

So she waited patiently –or not so much anymore as the time neared nine yet no mane of black or even brown hair were anywhere to be seen- with her two little suitcases on the floor next to her; they'd better be here by the designated time…

'See we're back; you didn't have to make such a fuss about it.'

'But look at the time-I only have… ten minutes left to reach Ginny!' Harry complained to Hermione who looked superiorly at him, making it clear to anyone who might be looking it was not her fault.

'Then you better start running mate.' Ron simply stated; Harry growled -and in that moment they were briefly reminded of Sirius- but left so fast, they barely saw him exiting the room. He must have messed things with Ginny in a very bad way…

_Let me make it in time_…

And he did; even if he arrived one minute late, he was saved by the fact Ginny was looking towards his direction at that moment -and saw him running like it was the end of the world- so she forgave him (inwardly of course) for his tardiness. 'You came.' Her voice cold and her eyes accusing for something Harry didn't quite understand –or pretended not to- and played the "go along with it" card.

'Yes…I did.' he was panting 'did you…have a safe trip?'

'Was alright I guess…' she said conversationally, losing her edge. 'Now let's go find the others.'

They both started but stopped at the same time. 'Suitcases Harry-won't carry themselves.' Ginny snapped –a killer smile decorating her features- nodding at her feet.

Harry sighed…if Ginny actually told him to carry her luggage then she was absolutely mad; he should have known she wouldn't let go of the fact he left just as they started on their first child so easily. But he hoped that now that he wouldn't complain and carry her bags and agree with everything she said, she'd let this go sooner rather than later.

* * *

'_**Ginny**_!' both Hermione and Ron exclaimed; the first rushed to hug her.

'Ooh, it's so good to see you again! How are you? What have you been up to?'

'What will you do with the quidditch practices?' Ron intervened.

'Heh, I promised I'd either practise extra-hard to make up for the days I'll miss or-.'

'Being a pro quidditch player ain't easy sis.'

'-just practise here, the place where we all learnt how to fly properly. So cheer up boys, you'll get to fly again because I got the OK from McGonagall!'

She could have said that she'd just seen an angel and they'd be less excited -the boys that is- because they were thrilled; oh how both of them had missed flying in a real quidditch pitch and not just watch Ginny do it in her matches. And how much more when they did it in Hogwarts, the place they never got to fully graduate from.

'Well, since you brought us such good news, we might as well return the favour; McGonagall, whom we ran into on our way here, said tomorrow we can start watching the memories earlier and _not_ stop during lunch!'

The couple widened their eyes surprised; that was great news! 'And you'll never believe the amazing things we've been seeing Ginny-!'

'Oh don't worry, Hermione has been keeping me up to date ever since she started reading the book. I even know how it ends…' Ginny interrupted her brother; she winked at Hermione who winked back and the two of them laughed.

_He-he-he_; this was revenge…

'You what!' Harry and Ron snapped simultaneously; they looked at one another and then, communicating with but their eyes, they turned to Hermione furious. 'Hermione!' how could she tell Ginny and not them? And why is it that only women know the truth so far: first McGonagall then Hermione and now Ginny…just because the book was about a woman it didn't mean they had to make this alliance in order to piss them off…

'Save your protests for someone who listens; now let's go to sleep-I want an early start tomorrow!'

Hermione sounded like what Harry'd always thought a drill sergeant would sound like; he pouted but the thought of him sleeping in the same bed with his wife again –_eventually_ sleep anyway- gave him great pleasure thus he didn't protest. After all, he wanted that early start himself; maybe, considering they wouldn't stop over lunch, they'd get to finish all the Hogwarts memories tomorrow…

'Hermione, aren't you coming?' Ron asked, noticing she wasn't following him as she did every night she'd say that; and what's more, he noticed Harry going towards the same direction as him! 'Mate, _we_ get the big bed.'

'No, I asked Hermione earlier and she said _I _should!'

'_No_-!'

'Boys, relax; both of you get it. It's just that it will be you two who will be sleeping in the big bed and Ginny and I will take the smaller one-we do have catching up to do, don't we darling?'

'Oh yes; she needs to tell me where you are in the memories because I will follow you tomorrow into the pensive. Ain't polite keeping a lady in the dark…?'

They were both baffled; then enlightened. And then a thought crossed their minds: it was scary to piss off your wife-she always has a way to get back at you…but they realized complaining was hopeless –and it would only satisfy their wives to watch them squirm with the idea-so they let it be and made their way to their bed in silence, but one little word they shared: _**women**_.

All night long, the two men could hear their wives chatting away, laughing and being sentimental or scared; but no matter how hard they tried to listen in on details, they couldn't –considering there was a wall between them, too-. In the end, they fell asleep sitting up, trying their hardest to eavesdrop...

* * *

Next day, next memory; they woke up so early in the morning that the headmistress was barely awake when they reached and knocked on her door. After she changed, still quite annoyed they managed to be there so early even if they were always late for her class, she let them in and left…

.

.

.

28th of August; the time for the hearing had come. Both Tom and Camellia, dressed in formal clothes, were standing next to one another with their backs straight and their heads held high. Right behind them was…Dumbledore! He was wearing a bright blue suit -that caused all four of them to chuckle upon sight- and his not-so-long beard and hair were neatly combed.

They were waiting patiently for their turn to get to the ministry in front of a telephone box which had almost ten more people waiting in front of them; one could see the wait aggravated the two children: Camellia was getting nervous, fiddling with the hem of her dress while Tom looked about to murder the people in front of him.

Yet the telephone box –or the scenery around it- was much different than Harry remembered it when he went to his own disciplinary hearing: the box appeared to be new and the buildings, even if the place was a bit isolated, were still clean and imposing; Harry marvelled at the difference a mere 50 years could make to a place.

'We are going to be late.' Camellia whispered, apparently more than worried.

'There is _no_ chance of that happening, dear child, do not worry!'

'But the line is so big and we have one hour left-barely!'

'And this is why I say that when you're anxious you're overreacting; an hour is more than enough for us to get to the ministry, rehearse our statements and drink tea before the hearing starts.' Tom said, even more annoyed than ten seconds ago; obviously in this short of situation even the girl's voice agitated him.

'Stop being such a prat! If it were you in this situation then I wouldn't be saying such things to you; try being a little more supportive!' she snapped, her nervousness and –misplaced- anger evident now.

He rolled his eyes; she really was overreacting every time something stressful happened: same thing happened when she first witnessed Myrtle's dead body…ok, wrong example but he had more occasions on his mind. 'I am not being a prat Camellia, and I'm trying to be supportive but, as usual, you can't see past yourself.'

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say to the certain person…and apparently Camellia thought so, too because her eyes grew very wide in her attempt to glare at him more. 'A-are you mental; did _you_ just say that to _me_?' _Oh no, there she goes again_. 'You're telling me that _I_ am the one who only cares about myself-when you were the one who made me go through all of those trials-…' her forceful way of speaking was stopped short as she remembered that professor Dumbledore was honouring them with his presence. 'Humph; professor is here so I can't be specific-!' she continued all superior-looking…but Dumbledore cut her amused.

'Oh, never mind me; do be specific.'

'Professor that is personal!' she countered, her mood evidently better since there was humour somewhere in her voice.

Tom, who looked completely shocked when she'd mentioned the fact she knew many things about him Dumbledore didn't, relaxed as she didn't allow the professor to know anything; but she really had a knack of worrying him and if this kept up he'd be having a heart-condition soon.

'If that's the case…' he said somewhat disappointed but still enjoyed the invaluable opportunity to observe them-especially Tom interacting with someone of his own age in his everyday life.

'Fine, from now on I shall be supportive for the rest of the day in a way _you_ see fit; want me to hold your hand?' he teased but took her hand in his nonetheless.

The fact Tom was so adaptable, so quick to change approaches to befit the person he was with seemed to interest Dumbledore; no wonder everyone was happy to be in his presence and this girl must have been no exception. Oh, how easily everyone was taken in by his polite way of changing "personalities" that they didn't notice the very big problem this was underlying: if he was so quick to change his behaviour then didn't it mean he only wanted to give a false sense of security to the person he was talking to so he could manipulate them easier and none knew his true self? Deep inside, he felt a little disappointed that Camellia-

'If you want that hand back in one piece I strongly suggest you let go of mine and never touch it again-at least for the time being!' she snubbed, feeling her head hurt out of mere anger while snatching her hand away and hitting him. 'And what's with you? If you think you're supportive then don't change your attitude because I think you aren't.'

'Humph! Have it your way then and trample on my honest intentions.' he said, sounding truly hurt and crossed his arms; he even looked away vexed. 'And just for your information, this dress makes you look fat...' he added in the end for good measure.

**. . .**

'Die you bastard!' she snapped going from "how amusing" to "furious" in less than three seconds; knowing she could not use magic (especially because the impending hearing was due to something like that) she resisted her urge to grab Dumbledore's wand and instead attacked him ruthlessly.

'O-ho, how lively the young ones are…! But you should reserve that vigour for the hearing; it's our turn finally.' Dumbledore remarked chuckling.

They had both failed to notice that it was their turn to leave, even if they were both so nervous about it moments ago, and that surprised Dumbledore particularly since Tom never lost track of such things... 'But seeing you two together like this it feels bad to interrupt you; what a good idea it was to have you both come here together. Don't you feel much more relaxed you're in each other's company?'

The two 16-year-olds, who'd stopped their fighting the moment Dumbledore had spoken, –Camellia's hands froze around Tom's neck while he was gently trying to stop her- at that last bit both turned red. Awkwardly, Camellia let go and looked away, thinking the fact that she was strangling him indeed brought her comfort…but that was not the best thing to do in order to relieve one's stress, especially if the one they were throttling was their best friend. So she chocked a little and walked into the telephone box with the two men on her heel. Tom on the other hand, who'd followed immediately, still felt annoyed Dumbledore dared to imply that he'd been feeling anxious and it was _Camellia_ who calmed him. Tch, what a pathetic load of bollocks.

As soon as all three of them entered, being very cramped in there indeed, Dumbledore dialled a number silently; and then a woman's voice was heard -loud and clear- as if standing next to them. 'Welcome to the ministry of magic. Please state your name and business.'

Heh! That was the exact same line Harry was greeted with when he came through here only the voice of the woman was different –a little friendlier at his time if possible-; did they never change truly?

'My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, School for witchcraft and wizardry; I am here to accompany miss Camellia Adams to her hearing and mister Tom Marvolo Riddle who is a material witness in this case.'

'You may take the badges that shall appear in a moment and attach them to the front of your robes; that way we'll know you are visitors.'

They heard a rattling sound and a badge appeared one after another out of the metal chute where the returned coins were supposed to appear; two over-surprised students took them and following the same routine attached them on their robes while Dumbledore merely watched them interested.

'All three visitors may submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.'

And then that same fear-inducing experience that Harry had when he'd gone to the ministry for the very first time was repeated: they started descending –even if it looked like the pavement was ascending instead- and complete darkness covered them; he could swear he saw the girl watching awestruck at the transition –obviously affecting her differently than it had affected him- while Tom was looking comprehensively, probably already trying to figure the workings out in his mind.

Then the descent ended and the golden light appeared; they reached the ministry. 'The ministry of magic wishes you a pleasant day.' the woman's voice wished, all too formally.

'Easy for you to say; I bet you are not even real.' Camellia snapped sourly; Dumbledore chuckled.

'That is quite true my dear; this is an automated response. Now let's get a move on: we have to go to the second floor but before that we have to go get your wands examined.'

He led them hurriedly to the security desk, without giving them a chance to marvel at the beauty of the ministry's entrance; Dumbledore stood still in front of the security desk that didn't have the man Harry had met but a rather very beautiful witch, with deep purple robes and long blond hair, who looked down in a very kind and graceful way. Her name tag read Dolores. 'Hello professor Dumbledore. What brings _you_ to this desk? I thought I have already granted you immunity after all the things you have done for the ministry…' the woman said teasingly and a little seductively.

'She's a veela that one…' Ron said, nodding to the woman. 'And if not a whole veela she's definitely a part one.'

'What? How do you know?' Hermione asked wondered.

Harry and Ginny shook their heads. 'He always does.' they said amused.

Dumbledore chuckled at the woman's "friendly" tone –Tom was close to vomiting as he could not quite fathom why such a beautiful and admittedly younger woman would like Dumbledore- while Camellia smiled knowingly, exchanging a look with the older woman; Dolores winked.

'Ah, my dear Dolores, how are you? I see you look as stunning as usual.' The woman accepted the compliment with a smile. 'But I am here for my two students; misses Adams and Tom are the ones who shall be submitting their wands today.'

_Misses_ Adams and _Tom_; why didn't he refer to him as mister Riddle, too-why did he always have to be deliberately casual with him?

'Oh is that so? Then would you please both leave your wands there' she said pointing at something that resembled scales 'one after another and then step forward in the same fashion-oh thank you.' she added as she noticed Camellia disposing of her wand in the single dish of the peculiar instrument; then she stepped forward.

While the strange device vibrated and then spilled out some sort of "result", a golden rod, flexible like a car aerial, started measuring the young girl. 'Now please take your wand dear and Tom, it is your turn.' The woman continued and after taking the piece of parchment the machine produced, she followed the same process with him. 'Now let's see; the young lady has a fourteen inches hawthorn wand, dragon-heartstring core that's been in use for five years, correct?'

'Aye…' she replied a little surprised; she never thought this machine would produce such accurate results.

'Perfect; and the young man has a thirteen and a half inches yew wand, phoenix-feather core also been in use for five years?'

'Indeed.'

'Ah, classmates; and what could two about-to-be sixth-year students do in this kind of place?'

'…Improper use of magic ma'am…' Camellia answered a little ashamed but smiled to the woman nonetheless.

Dolores gave her a stern look but winked in the end; they shared another smile.

'In any case, it seems this is a matter of self-protection, I'm sure they'll be willing to acquit her; nice seeing you dear.' Dumbledore finished and the two teenagers followed him away.

As the voice of the woman spoke a distant: 'Good luck you two…' Tom looked back to see her one last time; she was indeed beautiful, even if she was forty years old already. There was something special about her…

'Her mother is a veela; Dolores is a discreet woman though, never flaunting…' Dumbledore informed as he noticed Camellia was glaring at Tom, even if Tom didn't; but he heard the professor so he forced himself to snap out of it. That explained her unchanged and absolute beauty…he felt stupid he stared.

'Ha-ha, I was right! See?'

'Yes Ron, yes…'

The three now where heading to the elevators; they got in and looked at different directions while it started descending… Seventh level, the two started feeling the pressure; sixth level, they started breathing deeply; fifth level, they were getting very anxious; fourth level, the heavy breaths became pants; third level, sweat was running down their faces; second level, their hearts stopped…

'Level two, Department of Magical Law enforcement, including the improper use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Winzengamot Administration Services.'

Both gulped with difficulty as they drew a breath for such a long time one would think they wouldn't be breathing again for a long time. 'Here we are; let us go now shall we?'

'Um, professor, why are we up here? Shouldn't we be down at the dungeons or -in a courtroom…?' Camellia asked wondered; he'd already told them that much but obviously she hadn't paid enough attention.

'Ah, no my dear; it wasn't that much of a crime! We'll just meet the head of the improper use of magic office and the undersecretary and those two shall make a decision.'

'What-only two people! But that's worse odds!' Tom realized; OK, he knew Dumbledore didn't like him but make the girl's odds drop just because she was his friend seemed to him a little…un-Dumbledore like.

'No Tom, these two are friends of mine thus people who'll side with justice; I think you did the right thing thus I think they'll agree-don't worry about Camellia.' Dumbledore added in the end wickedly and gave him a furtive glance…

Tom looked away, blushing a little; he most certainly didn't really care about her but he had had to act like it for so long that he got used to defending her...that was all. 'If you say so professor…'

'My odds may have dropped but I feel much better with but two people interviewing me: much less questions and much less stress; and given they are people who think like you professor then I think I will do just fine…' she said looking very confident and certain but then she shadowed again 'but my heart still beats so fast! Oh let this be quick!' she monologued and entwined her fingers in front of her chest, pressing against her heart.

Both men in her company looked at her interested as she was looking up and down, looking highly disconcerted; she was almost hyperventilating while she was constantly biting her lip. Sometimes she would even shut her eyes…

* * *

She felt horribly: she knew these people were just and wise but she wouldn't be completely honest with them and that was what she worried about. If they realized she was lying then that would only mean Dumbledore knew, too and only pretended to believe them or he was trying to coerce her into coming clean about this before the trial. But no, she couldn't back down now; she had gone through hell to do this believingly (she could still remember the long police inquiries, the letters she sent Dumbledore and the invites to muggles' courts) and had come up with a very convincing -and most importantly plausible- story to fail now!

Besides, Tom was counting on her… alright, now that she thought clearly she could see there was not a reason to be worried about them not believing her…only about them expelling her. Yeah, that was not a good alternative. She started feeling anxious again: what if they held her accountable for everything or decided she shouldn't have messed with the muggle's memories and to wait for the ministry to do it…?

She needed to relax, she needed to relax…but how? Just by saying –well, thinking- it didn't mean it would happen; she had to do something-…! But then she felt a hand rested upon her head! She opened one eye and looked up to see whose hand it was that messed slightly with her hair in order to comfort her…

It was Tom's.

'Merlin's beard Cam; one would think you can't handle pressure.' He teased but seeing he received little reaction from her part –her second eye opening- he sighed. 'Don't worry, we have the truth on our side; they'll never expel you for protecting something that's important to you.' he continued and winked at her; she gave the first small hesitant smile; and had he just implied he was important to her? Heh, maybe he was right-she did and **will** lie for him... 'Besides, I'm your witness what's there to worry about? You think I'd ever let you get expelled?'

She looked up at him adoringly; he was truly surprised but in a good way: now he knew she trusted him enough to leave things up to him…to a point. That was useful. She gave a throaty laugh. '…stop treating me like a pet-I can't believe you're actually petting me…'

Oh dear; she had a good instinct if she actually realized he treated her like a pet, especially considering the fact she was so distracted by everything else. 'Ha-ha, yes, my own personal pet-tiger; now be a good girl-stop worrying so much and I'll give you a treat when the hearing is over.'

She punched him; her eyes darted to him though. 'What kind of treat?'

He laughed. 'If I told you, it wouldn't be a treat would it? Now calm down; you went from pet-tiger to doused cat.'

'…'

When they arrived at the office of the improper use of magic –the only route Harry hadn't taken during his own hearing- Dumbledore let them in without even knocking first; that surprised both children –they even hesitated going in for a moment- but continued after Dumbledore waved.

* * *

They walked in; Camellia was a bit hesitant but Tom strutted in with his chest out and his head held high. But as he noticed the girl's taken-aback attitude, he decided to help her-not for any other reason than the fact he wanted her to appear strong thus much more convincing for his own benefit; he waited for a second and as she came beside him, he put his hand on her waist and made her walk with her back straight. '_Show no fear_…' he whispered in her ear; she grinned and did it.

She drew a big breath in an effort to appear bigger and fearless. _'And I lied; it doesn't make you look fat_.'

She smiled and sat down between Dumbledore and Tom; completely ego-stricken now she felt she'd do great! And that's when she spared a look for the two people in front of her for the first time: it was a woman, around fifty years old, and a man who appeared to be about twenty years older than Dumbledore. They both looked kind yet professional and there was something else about them that she couldn't quite discern…So she waited.

'Good morning. My name is Caroline Berge and I am head of the department for the improper use of magic; this is Christian DePaul the undersecretary. Are you Camellia Rachel Adams?'

Caroline sounded formal but that which Camellia felt before that didn't know exactly what it was, now she finally pint-pointed it: Caroline had already made up her mind about her being innocent or not prior to her coming here. She shivered at the thought; if that was the case then she hoped really strongly that it was the first and not the latter or else it would prove difficult to sway her.

She replied immediately 'Yes, Camellia Rachel Adams, daughter of Nathan and Rachel Adams, 16 years old, and I have successfully completed five years at Hogwarts.' and as she finished she glanced at Dumbledore; she hadn't done anything foolish had she? What if her overexcitement had proved fateful? What if they thought she wanted this to be over because she was guilty and the faster the formalities were over the sooner she'd be able to bend the story…? Not that they'd be too far from the truth…

But Dumbledore smiled reassuringly; all was still well.

'Very well; we are both aware of the facts of this case so we would like you to verify them and also answer a few questions. Of course none of you has the right to interfere in any kind of way while the other is speaking.' Christian spoke for the first time; his deep vibrant voice was a great contradiction with his grey hair and overall tired-looking appearance. He fixed his pointy green hat –a hat Camellia bet Tom liked very much- that matched his equally green robes as he said the last.

'But we are sitting right next to one another-how can we **not** interfere!'

'I'd advise you to speak only when you're spoken to.' Caroline said in an expression very similar to what Tom called "the Dumbledore stare"; now she knew why the two of them were such great friends. Still, her lips were nearly as pursed as the man's next to her who was now thundering her.

Tom kicked her under the table in a form of reprimand for her "mistake" and she could already see his indignation; she bit her lip even harder.

* * *

'Excuse her, she is always so very energetic, even in class; it is what sets her apart from everyone else.' Dumbledore defended her amiably yet neither Tom nor Camellia knew if it had any effect.

'…Is it true miss Camellia Adams that there was a stunning spell produced from your wand at the 21st of August and at 4 o'clock in the afternoon even though you are not an adult yet?'

'Yes sir.' She felt weird that someone was interrogating her but not in a scary way-rather in a funny one; she tried not to let that show and smothered a smile. But Tom noticed her disposition and looked a little worried…

'And is it true that later that day, only a couple of minutes later, another spell was produced from your friend's -Tom Riddle- wand, namely a memory charm?' apparently the interrogator hadn't noticed it or acted as such because there was not a shred of difference in his voice.

'Yes sir.'

'And is it true that you have already received one warning from this office on the 29th of July of the previous year for producing a healing charm?'

Ah, what she feared the most: she already had a warning thus she knew she couldn't afford to do that second spell but…it was all depending on how persuasive she was. And she promised she wouldn't rely on anyone but herself. 'Yes sir.' she said with poise.

Was it Tom's idea or the more that man asked the more courage she mustered? Wasn't it supposed to go the other way round?

'And is it true that the muggle who was present during the said display is convicted by a muggle's court because he attacked you that same day and moment?'

'Yes sir.'

'Good; now can you explain to us why you produced the stunning charm?' the woman took the lead; Camellia figured she wouldn't deal with the boring part of this and her hunch was right.

'I did not produce it; Tom did in order to protect me. He was in possession of my wand because –since we are not allowed to do magic outside of school- I'd left it in my room but when I was attacked I was in Tom's room, not mine.' She was composed, formal and to the point. Very well.

'Disregarding the fact you were in his room _for now_, he protected you from the muggle that attacked you I take it?'

'Indeed.' She could feel her cheeks burn a little hotter. But even if there was a relationship other than friendship –as Caroline implied- between them it was not these people place after all. Not that there was something else between them…

'Is that so mister Riddle?'

* * *

He was caught a little off guard; all this time he was noticing and noting Camellia's behaviour –for future reference mostly- but he could not help but admire her total change when faced with her accusers. She let none of her panic show through. Still, he was slick as ever. And finally someone referred to him as "mister" –even if it was followed be Riddle. 'Of course it is sir; I am a wizard you see and the first thing that came to mind was a spell rather than physical damage. Do forgive my recklessness.'

The woman's eyes grew a little wider; the man looked up from the papers he was busy with to Tom. 'But if that is so then maybe _you_ should be the defendant here-!'

'No ma'am! He did not do both incantations!' both interrogators looked highly displeased by the interruption but allowed her to speak '_I_ used his wand for the memory charm, I am better at that sort of thing than him, and my wand already had two recorded violations –even if I performed only one of them- thus I could not possibly do it with my wand or else I'd be expelled for certain. Thus he agreed to have his wand used by me and receive but a warning.'

'I'd advise you not to interrupt a person when they are talking, especially if they are one that can determine your future; it shows bad manners.' the woman said strictly, her lips now pursed. 'And I thought we already explained how you are not allowed to speak when mister Riddle is asked a question-.'

'But you didn't ask him anything; you only stated a conclusion you hastily drawn without knowing the whole truth.'

The thud of Camellia's foot by Tom's on the table was now heard even by the two interrogators; she winced but said nothing even if everyone realised what it was. Well, they couldn't blame him for wanting to stop her and shape her up a little-she dared talk back to her inquisitors in such a manner that was shameful even for him who defended her. And her nonchalant tone didn't help either. They felt she was trying to ridicule them.

'Can I speak sir, madam?' Tom asked politely, flashing them his irresistibale law-abiding smile. Relieved someone was about to give them the respect they deserved, they nodded. 'I did give my wand to her to perform the spell because like she said herself she is better than I am to such a feat' both Dumbledore and Camellia noticed his smile going a little cold at his admitting to be inferior to anything to someone else 'and I did perform the stunning spell with her wand; it all happened because of my will to protect her but the one to blame was the man who attacked her. Had he not done so, there would be no reason for any sort of spell.'

'And may I ask why did she find necessary to perform a memory charm? I believe the department appropriate for such a thing would be more than-.'

'If I hadn't then the said department would have to wipe at least a hundred memories; Denis would've never kept his trap shut; he would've blathered to about anyone who was willing to listen. And it's an orphanage we were leaving in, do you have any idea how easily those kids eat everything up? Tom would be ostracized by his peers in a heartbeat!'

'Alright, apart from the fact you obviously are a headstrong person and you keep interrupting us I can see there is a great deal of solidarity between the two of you; please tell me what kind of relationship do you have? And **one** by **one** please.' She added, seeing both were about to speak; thinking it was a direct comment to her –the glare Camellia received from Caroline helped with that realization, too- she closed her mouth and sat back. But she did feel very embarrassed, even if she looked it not. She didn't actually believe she would ask that; what concern of theirs was it anyway. And the fact Tom was first to speak made her nervous. He'd better not mention they kissed or else… But what really caught her attention was the quill at the far side of the table that kept writing and writing all by itself as well as Dumbledore's intensive stares.

Tom though, satisfied, spoke. 'We have been best of friends ever since our first year at Hogwarts; maybe it is a bit of a stretch to say we bonded immediately but we certainly are very close now. You can ask professor Dumbledore as well; he will verify that.'

'Is that so Albus?' the woman asked immediately.

'Why yes; I **can** verify everything he said about their relationship.'

'And I may also add that the said day we received our OWLS results thus we were reading them together in my room.'

'…Miss Adams?'

She almost jumped; she didn't expect to hear the woman asking her personally. 'Exactly what Tom said: best of friends.'

The two raised their eyebrows at her; she raised it back. 'But you are a Ravenclaw and he is a Slytherin.'

'I am proud to say that I am not much for stereotypes-like proving them wrong.'

'That she does; her grades are that of a Hufflepuff's!'

She looked at him shocked. 'Tom!' she complained while barely resisting the urge to smack him; how could he slander her like that? Well, not slandering since her grades were a bit low compared to an average Ravenclaw but belittling her definitely did not help.

'What? It is very true.'

'And also mean of you to say so!'

'Then you should study harder!'

She didn't hold back this once; she smacked him with a passion. The man's eyes widened; the woman let her chin hung. 'I believe this is hardly the right time or the place for that Tom!'

'With you there never seems to be a right place or time for that.'

'Aw-you prat!' she snapped and hit him again.

'Miss Adams!' Caroline exclaimed scandalized.

'Well, ma'am, didn't you hear him? Ugh, point is I don't think I deserve to be expelled just because I performed a memory charm in order to protect Tom's privacy and ultimately the existence of our world from Denis' hatred so, either condemn me for being a good friend or let me go back to school.'

* * *

The still overly surprised ministry employees looked at one another a bit taken aback and started scribbling rapidly at one another -instead of chatting-; there were many curt nods and gestures that showed irritation but there was an overall surprised feeling. In the end, the two of them nodded simultaneously as their eyes met and fixed their papers.

Camellia's heart started beating fast again; they would now make up their minds and decide whether she was still eligible or not for Hogwarts. Her hands felt sweaty and the only thing she could hear was the drumming of her heart, strong against her chest, like she wanted to go out and beat the two inquisitors in the same rhythm it beat for itself.

Tom looked at her; she looked perfectly calm and had he been any other person he would say she really was…but not to him-Tom noticed how she had frozen in her chair and that always betrayed her uneasiness –even if her stance was one that betrayed she sought convenience rather than a good impression. Also her eyes would either linger or stray too much on certain things or people and that also signified turbulence inside her. Besides, he knew when her eyes wandered they were usually searching for his; he smirked to that thought and as proof when he met her eyes she did relax a little. Tom decided to pull the good friend act till the end: he slipped his hands under the table and rested his left one upon her thigh –since her hands were sprawled on the desk-; Camellia smiled for the support.

Caroline cleared her throat. 'Despite the obvious lack of discipline and the indecent behaviour of the girl –as it has been displayed surprisingly numerous times here today- as well as the dubious relationship between the two of you we can easily see why she'd resort to such drastic measures in order to keep the muggle from remembering anything. Thus…we have decided not to expel her from Hogwarts.' Both children beamed 'but that is not the end of it' the smiles dropped a little 'we shall make arrangements with Albus and make sure she receives punishment…in a way _he_ sees fit.' The smiles returned triumphantly. 'That'll be all; you can let go of her leg now.'

Tom felt very self-aware suddenly –especially when he heard Dumbledore's signature chuckle- yet it didn't seem to affect the girl in any kind of way… she just stayed there, her expression one of relief but nothing else. 'Cam', are you alright? Why aren't you jumping on the table…?'

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had stepped outside with the two ministry employees.

'I can't feel my legs; they are paralyzed from the shock.'

He raised an eyebrow 'I'm not carrying you.' he said deadpan.

She kicked him under the table. 'Well look at that-they are fine now; you don't have to carry me.' she snapped emotionlessly and casted him a glare.

Yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to be mad at her; he had no idea why, but he felt relieved-no, satisfied, that the girl would not be expelled and not because it was his fault she was in such a position on the first place but solely because he would have her with him for the rest of his time at Hogwarts, which was bound to make things interesting. After all, without her, he imagined life would be dull, monotonous even, since her moody "psychotic breaks" –as he called them- would be absent. For the first time in his life he felt like hugging her…if not anything else.

But he noticed that the girl slowly from glaring at him turned to beaming at him; he was confused. But since the change was for the better he didn't question it. 'What?'

She stood up abruptly. 'What-Tom-I'm acquitted! I am free to go back to Hogwarts-it's amazing news!' she said like pointing out the obvious, hands flying everywhere.

He smirked, following her example. 'I told you, didn't I?'

'Yes, yes you did! Ooh I'm so happy!' she continued thrilled…and started swaying on her feet; finally she decided and threw her arms around him. 'Thank you, thank you so much for defending me!'

She squeezed him tighter –he felt either his lungs started to shrink or he was being asphyxiated- and swayed him from side to side, too. 'It was the least I could do, considering why we're here…'

She let go; he didn't expect to be disappointed when she did but what do you know?

'Don't ever say that again…! Aw, I'm so relieved. Oh! I forgot! Jules is here, she's waiting for the trial to end-she's right outside!'

'Really? That is a coincidence; Abraxas is right outside as well…'

'…don't tell me _he_ is the treat you were talking about…'

'Ha-ha, of course not; but he did bring it…'

'Hum…interesting…well, let's just go then.' Even as they walked outside she was still swaying from side to side and beamed at him, flashing him stupid smiles all the while; he shook his head amused, she was such a child.

'Camellia!'

'Jules!' they squealed and as the adults parted, they ran to each other; they hugged immediately. 'Jules, it's over, it's alright I'm acquitted!' she said, none letting go of the other, while jumping up and down.

'I know I know I know I know! I'm so happy for you I'm so thrilled we'll be going back to Hogwarts together again I can't wait!'

She looked at her, distancing herself for the first time. 'Ah, I know-you are so sweet honey!'

'No, I'm just so eternally happy-don't ever do anything so reckless again!'

They hugged each other again, carrying on with the jumps, too; the two boys were watching them half-amused half-scared knowing that this was a typical girls' reaction yet not so typical for the certain ones so they only exchanged similar looks of wonder and mild fear. When they stopped, Camellia turned to professor Dumbledore. 'Thank you so much for being here sir, it was great help! Really, I can't thank you enough for being so supportive!'

'It's alright dear child, I would never let one of my most favourite students get expelled.'

She blushed; the last thing she expected to hear was that but she was amazed and most excited to hear it because he was her favourite teacher after all. 'Aw, you're making me red…'

'Ha-ha; tomato red. Why don't we old people go, though? I'm sure you can find the way out on your own-four brilliant minds like yours.'

'I only see two of those.' Malfoy snapped, speaking for the first time; of course he was referring to Tom and himself, the snobby git.

'I on the other hand see three and a half; you see only half of your brain is fine. The rest is polluted with blood-purity bollocks and general small-mindedness.'

Surprisingly it was Jules who snubbed him and to even a bigger surprise, it was Camellia who let the subject go. 'Jules don't mind him, I'm so glad I'm no longer an expellee-candidate that I could even get along with Goldie-locks.'

If one could make a greater offense to Abraxas then that would be calling him a muggle-lover, that was how offended he felt by the name Camellia used to refer to him; he was literally about to break out in swears but Tom, who noticed that, placed his hand on Abraxas' shoulder. 'Camellia, aren't you interested in what I brought here with Malfoy for you?'

'Oh "the treat"…! Well, I guess!' she said a little nonchalant but not too much in order not to hurt Tom's feelings, who Camellia was certain had put his heart into this.

'Then you should be a little nicer to Abraxas who did all the trouble coming here…'

'"All the trouble"; his father _works_ here, it was no trouble at all.'

'…is it my idea or has Jules drunk a little something out of Camellia's cup today?'

'OK, that's a fairly good question-don't get upset.' Camellia said to her girlfriend, defending Tom, whom Jules was about to chastise in a very obvious and loud manner. 'Anyway, why don't we start walking to the exit and let's see that thing which you had to bring here yourself-hopefully that will distract Jules…'

They all looked at her. 'What? Just because I said it, it doesn't mean it still won't, Jules like a puppy-limited attention span.'

Both men looked at one another, interested to check it out; Malfoy started unwrapping the gift. 'No I do not have such a stupid condition; how can you actually compare me to a dog! Just so you know I am not dim-witted enough to be completely taken in by-oh my God!' she exclaimed as soon as she saw the gift. 'That is so thoughtful of you Tom, look Cam!'

She smirked. '…You were saying?'

'Ha-ha-ha!'

The boys laughed; Jules pouted but didn't look entirely angry; Camellia nudged her. 'Now let's see this treat of yours-…Oh god. Oh merlin! For you to-…this is amazing! Aw, I don't believe this is the second time I'll be hugging you today!' she stated and while doing so she followed through with her "threat" and hugged him-only this once, briefly yet still smothering. 'And thank you, too Malfoy –I guess- for bringing it here; it was very kind of you.' she said and in spite of the condescendence in her voice she bowed her head to him in thanks. 'But where did you manage to find this? It is extremely rare!' she inquired as she inspected the gift: it was some sort of chocolate pastry... they couldn't see the rarity.

'Thank my family's resources for that and Tom's persistence; I'm telling you it was no easy task putting this together in something less than a week.'

'Aw…now I'm actually feeling a shred of respect for your family…' honestly, she didn't quite like **or** minded Malfoy but she just couldn't help but teasing him; it wasn't just Malfoy but people in general of course…but she took extra pleasure in tagging on his cheek.

'If you don't stop you'll lose that hand, _dear_.'

'That or you'll lose your cheek trying, _darling_.'

'I can never quite understand if you're flirting or threatening one another.' Jules commented, kind of sour yet a little surprised.

...And now it all made sense to Camellia: Jule's sudden cheekiness, the irritation…she liked Abraxas, no doubt about it. So she had to sort this out with her friend –even if she would really enjoy the idea of Tom being jealous of his (what appeared to be) best friend as he was already sending death-glares to both- looking between them.

'Threatening; definitely.' they both said naturally and –for verification- casted a contemptuous look to one another.

'Let's just go; I don't want to stay in this bleak looking office for another moment.'

* * *

End! Finally 6th year is just around the corner~I'm so excited! Are you, too? Please review!


	21. Tangled

**A/N**: OK, I know this has been looooong overdue but in my defense my exams lasted a whole month, they finished not three weeks ago and my results still aren't back; I know only half of them...! Bloody-gits. Ahem, so enjoy the new chapter -it was so hard incorporating Ginny to this because I somewhat dislike her- and I can promise the next chapter will be up within the same week...yes, I'm compensating for my shameless delay!

* * *

'Let's just go now shall we? I don't want to stay in this bleak looking office for another moment.'

As soon as Tom said that, the familiar sensation of being pulled out of a memory overcame them and they found themselves inside headmistress' office.

'Wow this is wicked! Had I known how much fun you were having I'd have come here sooner! And this Camellia character's alright...I can barely fathom how she ended up with **him** of all people-honestly, what was it that drew her to him?'

The three of them looked at her narrowed eyed; that was the thickest question she had ever made, considering she was usually the insightful one when those matters were concerned-well, she and Hermione. 'His dashing good looks-his killer smile?' Ron inquired incredulously.

'The air of mystery that attracts most women? Not to mention the whole "forbidden fruit"-he did commit murder…' Harry explained thoroughly surprised his wife would ever ask that.

'And she was the first one he confined to so add the factor of trust into the blend then she has all the more reason…'

'Well no matter, no matter let's go see the next memory; I am so excited to see how this will develop! Is it sixth year?'

'Oh yes it is! And how lucky are you that this will be a relatively normal one; well, as normal as these two go-I sure am glad that harry or Ron haven't thought of any of these things while we were in Hogwarts!'

'What about when we were in Hogwarts?' the three asked altogether; they hated it when she would talk with riddles just because she knew things they didn't!

'Well...you'll see! Now, I'll put the next two memories in together –because they are connected anyway- and then you'll see why I've repeatedly said to you that men are the slowest thickest people on the planet as far as feelings are concerned. Tch!'

They looked between one another; that last sentence piqued their interest. Ginny gave her a toothless wide smile. 'Lead the way then library-girl.'

'Ouch; that is harsh Ginny.'

'What? I'm just being literal.'

'Ha-ha; now I know why I love having my sister here with me!'

The girls wiped their heads around at the same time to look at him with the same menacing glare. 'RON!'

'...Sorry...' the looks continued. 'Harry? A little help?'

'You're on your own; I'm scared enough of my own wife as it is, let alone yours as well!' he said defensively but with an air of defeat with hands in his robe-pockets...but he didn't stay idle: he took the two vials out of Hermione's hands and poured them in. 'But whoever wants to join, they might as well.'

* * *

One by one landed next to one another; they realized they were in a corridor...They were back in Hogwarts! But where was Tom...?

Tom was leaning casually against the wall as another class of Arithmancy had just ended; he was waiting for Malfoy to gather his things and then return to Slytherin common room together –as this was the last lesson- but it seemed it'd take longer than expected: Malfoy, as per usual lately, was chatting up Jules. Jules as in Camellia's best friend and if she weren't **that **–being a pureblood was a given- Tom never would have waited…but this way he also got to torture Camellia-just by being there.

Normally she'd want to be with him but lately she's been acting kind of strange because Tom had –by pure accident, honestly- mentioned that kiss four months ago…so she'd been slightly avoiding him.

But being tall had its perks, Tom thought, because with his point of view not only could he easily spot **and** keep an eye on Camellia but he also noticed that cute, quite sexy fifth-year Hufflepuff Blondie approaching him with small and uncertain steps, while her girlfriends seemed to act like cheerleaders.

He watched with the edge of his eyes amused as the young woman traveled back and forth between him and her group a number of times till she was eventually _pushed_ to him by the most daring of her friends –or the one with the shortest temper, he couldn't tell- . But only then did he turn to her –out of sheer politeness- and kindly asked her what it was that she required of his person.

'Oh, it's not-! Err, I mean, I don't want you to be under the impression I came here for a…um, potions or DADA question…-!' she immediately looked back at her friends for support, probably forgetting what she was supposed to say while seeking for help…but they were either laughing or shaking their heads.

He thought he should help the girl, so he took the lead. 'Are you trying to say you're here for a matter of a personal nature?'

She jumped but smiled gratefully. 'Exactly! Well, you see I sort of-…_like you_' she dragged out the word, looking everywhere but him 'and thought…if you wanted of course' she finally looked at him 'we could go out? Tomorrow at eight o'clock at the astronomy tower for instance?'

She said the last sentence so fast he barely made it out; he resisted the urge to smirk as he realized this was perfect: it'd both show Camellia he'd behave thus stay away from the romantic aspect and –if she **is** just talk- she'd go green out of jealousy! Besides, he couldn't possibly deny this beautiful girl her chance to go out with him.

'But if you have a prior engagement I completely-!'

'Nonsense; a girl like you shouldn't be saying such terrible things…of course I am available.' he completed in the nick of time, girl ready to walk away.

'Really?'

'Yes…don't tell me you're having second thoughts-.'

But she didn't let him finish 'Heavens no! I just thought you'd say no; this is a real date, you do realize that I'm asking you out on a date?'

Oh no; if she was _**this**_ dense things would go bad before they even went anywhere. 'Yes, I quite did; are you sure you aren't having second-?'

She beamed; 'GOD no! I just-you know, they say you and Camellia Ravenclaw are together...' but then she realized what she'd just said and literally slapped herself 'which of course I never believed which is why I-I'd never come between a couple.'

He smiled reassuringly –even if this girl started to get on his nerves- because at least she served her purpose: he could see Camellia glance his way much more frequently already –as she waited for Jules to get a move on- in the company of Michael (…_wait, Michael? Bloody-parasite_!).

'You are correct; I do not know where that unfounded rumour came from' _Tch! I bet from girls __**like you**__ that have nothing better to do than gossip all day _'but Camellia and I are **not** together.'

'Oh that's a relief...! I mean, I'll be going now;' she blurted 'don't forget tomorrow!' she made a final come-back.

She spared him a last longing look as she ran to her friends and –as abruptly they appeared- they disappeared, squealing, laughing…

.

.

.

'O…K that was scary; what was that cheering for?'

Tom turned at the sound of Camellia's voice, looking very smug –and what perfect timing she had-…'Nothing important; only Patricia Hufflepuff Cobs asking me out.'

'Humph-what! Asking you out-you?' exclaimed Jules astounded; Camellia let her own surprise be evident yet couldn't help but give a small laugh…even if she too wanted more information.

'Too bad I's not drinking anything or else I'd choke on it to show my utter amazement to this fact.'

'Shut up Mike!' Jules snapped, shocked still, expecting to hear more about this…but in all truthfulness it sounded kind of funny even to Tom who thought all these womanly affairs were ridiculous-the sole reason he resorted to them was because he wanted to make Camellia jealous...yeah, this was pretty low even for him.

'Oh c'mon Jules, tis pretty funny.' he excused himself while Camellia redirected her efforts to eying Tom.

'Never mind that; there are many girls who die to ask you out…but she actually **did** it…? I'm impressed.' And she sounded exactly that: impressed.

'And what did her daring move awarded her, pray tell Tom?' Malfoy asked him purposefully, realizing the girl must've gotten a positive answer which was why she was squealing.

Probably realizing the same thing for the same reasons –yet not willing to accept it- Camellia looked ready to spurn Abraxas but –seeing her- Tom rushed to answer. 'Abraxas my friend, I actually said **yes**.'

Malfoy smirked; the rest looked at him thoroughly, thoroughly dumbfounded; as soon as the initial shock was over and Tom probed by raising his eyebrows, the two girls looked at each other with the edge of their eyes. They held their eye-contact for a moment and then turned face-to-face, shutting their mouths at the same time.

'Ha! Good on you Riddle finally getting some play.'

Simultaneously the two women turned to Michael, looking murderous or at the very east annoyed by the pleasant tone; Malfoy raised an eyebrow at what he dared say at his master but Tom disregarded it.

'What are those looks for?'

'"Finally" Michael-that comes from the guy who's been asking out the same girl for two years while she's been turning him down _all the while_?'

He blushed. 'Well Jules I still go out with other women but the fact it never works out with them only means that there's only one woman for me after all.' As he finished, he gave Camellia a glance.

But she, as if waiting for someone to put her in the spotlight -missing the glare Michael received from Tom when he implied Camellia was his one true love-, snapped out of it. 'You said yes!' she almost screamed like he had just committed a crime. Ironically, when he had committed one she was rather quiet.

'I did…why so shocked? Shouldn't I _finally_ start dating someone who actually wants me?'

'You dated someone who didn't?' joked Michael but shut it as both Tom and he got a back-slap from Camellia.

He'd used such carefully chosen words, it was too good: he really drove her mad and jealous at the same time but with the subtle hint it was all her fault. And the way she was blushing while she still had that stubborn look was very cut-err, satisfying. Right…

'Actually I never dated anyone, as Camellia and Abraxas very well know, which is what I meant: it'd be good for me to finally start-especially with a girl who likes me so much.'

'Yeah, but shouldn't you like her back?' Camellia snarled indignant, like she and Jules were the only sane of the bunch –as Jules kept nodding in agreement with everything Cam said-.

_Tch, men; pigs!_  
_Women…_the three thought.

'Forget about that-you're telling me you've never snogged a girl before?' Michael made the amazing realization.

'No it doesn't; I have, we just never dated.' Camellia blushed beside herself at that point from the indirect mention and Tom noticed it.

'Ah! You pig!' stated Jules, disgusted he dared to do such a thing to a girl.

'You pig!' Camellia echoed hotly but for quite a different reason…to hide her guilt. But, mustering the courage from her best friend, Jules decided to-

**SLAP!**

**SLAP **-Camellia, too.

Michael, who was simpering, now laughed. One could swear Abraxas was trying to curse him without a wand –judging by the look on his face- so he forgot to stare down the girls for this vile act of slapping his master.

'Hey, what's with you? Don't hit a man before you know the whole story; **she** was the one who didn't want to go out with me-I did!'

'You mean you forced a kiss on her!'

'Ugh-no! She snogged me, too!' Tom excused himself before Jules hits him again; of course, all the while Camellia remained silent, only blushing more and more unable to defend herself.

'Ah-the whore!' Jules exclaimed again.

Camellia fumed: Jules knew who "the whore" was, so why'd she say something like that? 'Jules, we don't know the girl; she might –and I bet she did- have her reasons.' she said venomously.

'Of course she did: she said it was a mistake and she didn't mean it.'

'Aw poor you; d'she break your heart?'

'Anyway…why is it wrong to go out with Patricia?'

'Well for starters you don't like her! You'd never noticed her until…well, now!'

'**That** I'm afraid is true-'

But then, like remembering something, Jules went pink and stopped being supportive to Tom... 'Ah! You pig!' she snapped again, without letting him finish; she slapped him and strutted away; hopefully this way she could make it up to her friend for unconsciously swearing her.

'You pig.' Camellia recited, slapped him yet again and trailed off after Jules.

'What she said.' Michael said between laughs and followed after them.

. . .

'…that went well.' Tom stated when he and Malfoy were left alone, feeling his cheeks burn hot by their previous violent expressions of anger; Abraxas watched him the whole time gaping. 'But why d'they have to hit the same cheek…?' he completed as he was rubbing them.

'M-my lord; why do you allow those women to treat you like that?' asked Malfoy while they started walking back to their dormitory.

Tom looked at him in a way that took Abraxas by surprise, yet he didn't flinch. 'Because my naïve death-eater we're still in Hogwarts. Besides…it's fun watching them bear their fangs at me…'

But as he watched the girls disappear chatting away, suddenly a desire rose within him: the desire of knowledge-knowledge of what it was that they were talking about now that they were alone -as he noticed they'd shooed Michael away-. 'Abraxas I have an idea; aren't you the one who keeps asking me if I think Jules has or a crush on him or not?'

'Yes…'

'Well, it's about time I found out.' A plan was already forming in his mind…

'What-how?' he sounded he was in on it even without any further information.

'I still have some polyjuice potion left from last year; I believe it is about time we put it to good use. We only have to make sure Jules stays away from Camellia -from everyone actually- while I pose as her…so we have to knock her out. When she wakes up I'll plant her all of the memories to think it was she that was with Camellia.'

'**You**; I think I should be the one-'

'Of course not! You don't expect me to send _you_ in Camellia's bedroom, do you?'

'Um, no but maybe we could use Camellia, instead of Jules…' he offered suggestively; Tom shook his head.

'She's smarter than Jules, she'll realize something is wrong when the last thing she remembers is me; besides, she's incredibly suspicious as it is thus she'll immediately start questioning. Also, it's harder to impersonate Camellia-too moody.' he opined thoughtfully, hand on chin. Suddenly he stopped walking. 'I'll go catch up with the girls right now and get Jules; I'll pretend you send me to get her. Then, when she's in the dormitory we'll knock her out, I'll transform into her and then go back to Camellia. I'm going!'

He immediately did as he'd said; he quickened his pace to find them faster as he retraced their steps and thankfully, he caught a glimpse of them before they managed to enter the dormitory. 'Julia, Cam' wait!' he called out; they turned around to see who was calling.

When they did, Camellia rolled her eyes and nodded to Jules to keep going, but Jules didn't budge; they seemed to argue a little but as soon as he reached them, it all stopped. Odd… 'Sorry for bothering you but Abraxas said he wanted to speak to Jules privately and-oh well, he wanted to look his best so he sent me to fetch her…should you accept his invitation of course.' he added hastily in the end and smiled; Jules started blushing more as the seconds went by, knowing that last bit did the trick…but not for Camellia apparently because she gave him her "raised eyebrow" look.

'Oh…OK.' She turned to her best friend 'I'll meet you-'

'Back in our room when you get back, I know-but make sure that's no longer than half an hour or I'll come looking!'

'Cam!' complained Jules. 'What do you think he'll do to me-gee…?'

But Cam's intensive stare did not falter; Tom decided to intervene. '_**I**_ shall make sure she gets here in time, what about that?'

She appeared sceptical; 'then if something happens to her I know whom to go after.' she stated shrugging and stomped off.

'That was odd.'

'Don't mind her-she's angry at me.'

'Oh thank Merlin, it's not me-…! Ahem, I mean what you did to her?' he asked as they started walking to Slytherin dormitory.

'Girl stuff.'

* * *

**Silence…

* * *

**

'So, um, what did Abraxas tell you he needed me for?'

'Eh? Oh, don't get me involved in this-I want nothing to do with it.' He cut the conversation that was about to form; after all he had no idea what Malfoy would come up with and he didn't want to say something different and then correct it, he wanted it to appear natural.

'…are you really going to go out with Patricia Hufflepuff?'

'Hum?' That took him by surprise. 'Of course, why would I lie?'

Jules looked appalled. 'Oh come on! She's completely dim-witted! And I mean it quite literally!'

'Don't be mean Julia...but what's the problem; do you have a reason for not wanting me to go out with her?'

'Just don't.' continued she stubbornly.

'Why? Give me a sensible or an honest reason and I'll think about it.'

Jules blushed looking away but didn't back down. 'I already pointed out, she's stupid. Nice, but completely dense; she's of no interest to an ingenious man like you.'

'Ingenious men often prefer dim-witted women because they are easier to handle-just a handful want an equally smart girl actually presents them with a challenge and since my best friend is that smart then why should I not try out the stupid one in my relationship?'

'Oh c'mon-you'll say the word "flabbergasted" and she'll think you're talking about a spell!'

'I doubt we'll be doing much talk-'

'AH! YOU PIG!' she snapped for the umpteenth time that day and slapped him for the third time; he felt his cheek burn –and his hand with it, seeking retaliation but he resisted it-.

'Julia I believe you are spending too much time with Camellia thus you've started being violent.' his words strained.

'Humph! I'm not violent; slapping is the ultimate woman's right.'

'If all you're doing is that, then fine –as long as you promise this was the last time for today-.'

'You're threatening me-you don't want Camellia hearing that, do you?'

'…I'm doing nothing of the sort…of course…'

'You don't sound too definite!'

'Whatever; ah, we're here:' he was about to say the password but Abraxas opened the door. 'Oh, were you waiting for us?'

'Yes; I was really nervous thus I kept checking every ten seconds since I got ready.'

'Wh-why were you nervous…?' she asked blushing.

'Um, well, I was-err, why don't we hold this conversation somewhere more privately?'

They ascended the stairs and got her in Malfoy's room; no one actually looked at them the wrong way because they were used to Malfoy having women up his room –which was exactly why Tom had chosen it-.

'As I was saying, I thought we could meet someday to study just like Tom and Camellia always do and they seem to have such a great time-and if I want to be completely honest, I get kind of jealous!'

She went red and looked away but a huge smile now decorated her features. 'When do you have in mind?'

He lit up, as he too was shy. 'That's great! What about next time Tom and Camellia meet you come with her here? We'll be in **my** room of course, not with them. Err, I didn't mean I want to get you alone or anything-!'

'Oh, I understand...great then! It's a date!'

'It's a date!' he repeated…then silence.

All the while, Tom had a strong feeling he was being the third wheel –he knew Malfoy was genuinely interested in Julia- but knowing after all they needed her. 'So why don't you go now before your friend throttles me?' he suggested seeing the awkwardness of both parties.

'Oh! Yeah, right, I'm going…'

As soon as she turned around Tom nodded to Malfoy; he immediately raised his wand. He waited until she was completely turned and on her way out and then he nodded to Malfoy again; he casted the spell and it hit her on the back…

She fell unconscious.

'Good job. Now let's take care of the procedures: I'll go to my room and wait for her robes and some of her hair with the potion at the ready;' Malfoy nodded and went to Jules a little too eagerly; Tom stopped him 'if you take more than five minutes, I'll come to check on you.'

Malfoy smirked. 'No need to worry; I'll be seeing her half-naked of her own free will soon, by the looks of it.' Both men smirked in understanding and Tom finally let go of him.

He then proceeded to leave; while staying those few minutes all alone with himself trying to dig up the potion and then wait for Malfoy to come, he started thinking what Malfoy had said about Jules. He could bet Malfoy had seen many women half-naked and maybe most of them completely naked, too but…_he_ hadn't. He couldn't say that there weren't women who would simply die for him to make any sort of move –especially that move- but he never really had interest in that...until now.

When he caught himself actually wondering about it, he realized he didn't care he hadn't seen _**a**_ woman but he was spiteful he'd never seen Camellia naked-after all, she did kiss him back and he was very certain she was in love with him so what was her problem? Why were women's feelings so hard to understand? In contrast, men's were much easier: if Malfoy liked a girl he'd tell her and if she liked him back then they'd date; it had taken much less "feelings" for a girl to _sleep_ with Malfoy than it needed Camellia to snog and later reject him because it was "not enough". And his weren't that different: he wanted to snog her so he did; that alone should prove he's interested in her –you don't go around snogging everyone- so it should be a solid start-what was with her complicated way of thinking? She shouldn't think the other person had to be in love with her in order to start something with her because that is simply too romantic as an idea so it was crazy she didn't want themselves to date just because Tom wasn't in love with her.

'Ready my lord?'

Malfoy's voice brought him out of his musing; 'I believe that is a silly question; but you do realize that you'll have to relinquish the flask you're holding?' he added, seeing Malfoy had put the hair of the girl in his favourite flask –the flask Tom would be pouring the potion in to take with him, just in case he took more than an hour-.

'Yes but…I wanted to give something to her from the very beginning so I don't mind.'

'Well, if _you _don't…bottoms up!'

Then something –that the three of the four knew full well what it was- started happening: Tom shrank, his hair started growing while they became a tone darker and his features were getting more female-like by the second; in the end he became the spitting image of Jules who looked to be too small for his robes. 'Now give me her clothes.' He commanded and the surprised Malfoy did it immediately.

'You're naked, right?'

'Stop drooling Malfoy and look away-it may be her body but it's **me** who has it.'

Malfoy blushed deeply. 'Yes my lord, I'm very sorry.'

Even though he did it without hesitation, Tom could still see him trying to sneak a peek at him as he was indeed wearing nothing but his boxers and even if for a guy that was normal, he knew it wasn't for a girl. But he couldn't blame Abraxas he was trying to peek; he could swear he'd be doing the same if the situation was different. But still, he had to stop if for no other reason just because it was Tom who had ordered him. 'If you don't stop it right now Abraxas, I'll make sure you never remember what you've just seen, savvy?'

Malfoy gulped. 'Yes my lord…' he muttered.

'Ronald! Stop peeking at Tom who looks like Jules, too!'

'I can't she's so cute-I'm sorry!'

'And same goes for you too Harry!'

'But Ron's right Ginny, I can't…'

'UGH! **Men**! I admire Malfoy for having the discipline to actually stop looking.'

Ginny agreed nodding.

'Alright; do I look good Abraxas?' he asked his voice now feminine while he was looking himself over at the mirror, patting his now very long hair.

'You look _amazing_-…Tom.'

He laughed; 'I'm off; when it is time to return I'll send word with an owl; make sure Julia is ready by the time I get back-approximately fifteen minutes.' He nodded. 'Good; wish me luck dear!' he said extra-girly and left, after he made sure no one was in the common room…

They had to hand it to him though he was very good at imitating people's behaviours because each and every one who ran into "her" didn't even think she was acting out of character: "she" was being pleasant, saluting all the people she knew and kept smiling all the way.

Before they knew it, he'd found himself inside the Ravenclaw tower in the common room searching with his eyes for Camellia to get her to- 'Hey Jules, over here!'

_**God**_ no; that was Michael's voice, he would recognize it everywhere! And given he was supposed to be a good friend of theirs he realized he had to suffer through this if he didn't want to rise any suspicions. 'Hey Michael; d'you know-…?' he said as he went towards him but then he saw what he was looking for. 'Oh, you're together. Well, shall we? We have a lot of things to talk about!' he continued by physically dragging Camellia to her feet and the fact the said feet were in Michael's lap only helped him make the decision sooner…but he hoped he didn't sound angered -because he definitely was-. Well, he did seem successful because he got no odd looks from neither.

'Malfoy must've said something quite interesting I take it?' Camellia commented because of the urgency "Jules" presented.

'Exactly, c'mon!'

Camellia shook her head amused and followed after "her" -Tom hadn't failed to notice the squeeze Michael gave her ankles before they leave his lap but actually Camellia was the one leading as Tom didn't know the way and didn't want to make any mistakes.

.

.

.

When they arrived in the room, which must have been the one at the far end as well as the one at the very top of the tower, he was very anxious to see it: he'd always pictured how it would be since he could never get inside it but what he'd found was nothing like he'd expected. It was surprisingly neat and tidy with the smell of perfume in the air. The walls and the floors were in the Ravenclaw colours, just like the three beds in the room-…three? So there is another one living with them-hopefully she wouldn't come back now.  
But then he noticed one of the beds was a complete mess, dirty clothes on it, shoes under the bed that only half of them could be seen and the drapes were irregularly arranged.

_This must be Cam's_…he thought amused and immediately headed there; he heard Camellia chuckle.

'That's right-put your mess straight; never leave your bed like that again!'

_Wow, that's Jules's? And Camellia is the neat freak? Very surprising_… 'Sorry Cam', won't do it again!'

'Been saying that four years Jules…!'

He smiled and went to Cam's bed; 'forget about that! We need to talk!'

'Finally! I thought you'd beat around the bush for more-do tell what happened with Malfoy! Is the flask you're holding his? Or did you think because I said nothing in front of Mike I didn't notice?'

'Nothing escapes you! Yes, it's his; a gift. Isn't it wonderful?' bloody-hell, acting like a girl and smiling all the bloody-time was hard… 'But that's not the important part: he asked me to go to his room!'

Camellia gaped. 'And what did you say?'

He blinked wondered 'I said yes of course.'

She gaped again only this once her eyes grew twice their size. 'Are you completely mental! If you do that…-wait, I bet I'm misunderstanding. When?'

He still didn't realize what the problem would be for Jules to go to Abraxas's room since Camellia's been to his more than one can count. 'He said next time you go to Tom's to study we should meet in his room, too; isn't he sweet?'

'Sweet-Jules he's trying to get you alone; and we both know where he wants to get things from there! I mean-all alone, no roommate, he can do whatever he wants and should something happen it's his word against yours. Besides, you know what they say Slytherins do to girls in their rooms! Ugh, I can't believe you were taken in! He is no good -I've told you over and over- he's a pureblood git who considers you a blood-traitor for pity's sake!'

'You know that's hypocritical coming from you Cam'; what about Tom?'

'You been waiting to snap me that, haven't you? Tom and I is different, we're just friends, nothing like you and Malfoy-you're in love with him! OK, I may have some feelings for him, too but…Point is that Malfoy is not to be trusted…! Well neither is Tom anymore for that matter.'

'Wait what? Why!'

'Why-he'll be going out with Patricia Hufflepuff, he-… we'll talk about this in a moment; do you understand you should stay away from Malfoy?'

'No!'

'If the fact he calls you a blood-traitor is not enough then just take a look at his hair.'

'His hair?'

'YES; never trust a man who spends more time than you fixing his hair because it only means he is a narcissist who, should a time come to choose between you and himself, he'll choose himself eleven out of ten!'

"Jules" laughed loudly; Tom didn't know about the rule being right in general but it was spot on about the certain man: Malfoy was a self-centred pig who'd rather save his skin than his own mother. OK, maybe not his mother but... '…anyway, I'll think about Malfoy later; do tell about Tom.'

'Right…don't ever call me a "whore" again, you hear me?'

Tom blinked; he hadn't hear d Jules call Camellia a whore…maybe when they were alone? 'I called you a whore?'

'Well, yes! "_Ah, the whore!_"' Camellia imitated Jules reaction from earlier when he'd told them that he'd snogged a girl; did that mean Camellia told Jules the truth about them? And if she had, how much more had she shared? 'What was that for-I told you what happened…?'

So she had told her why she'd snogged him…this required further digging. 'But what exactly-?'

'I told you I can't go into details because the secret is not mine to share. And to think you said that just to spite me…you're such a git! But a lucky git nonetheless!'

So she hadn't actually told her anything worth killing her over, that was good to know; but- 'Why am I lucky?'

'Because Malfoy won't be able to get you alone in his room and do bad things to you as he'd planned –even if you can't see that's what he planned- because _**I **_will never meet with Tom ever again!'

'Why not!' what the hell was Camellia talking about? What had he done this once?

'He' her voice lethal 'will be going out with Patricia! I will never ever, _ever _trust that man again!' said she, crossing her hands; she sounded like a petulant child.

He smirked. '…why? He didn't promise not to get involved with other women...'

Cam blushed but didn't falter. 'Well no, but-he snogged me! _He_ snogged **me**! I only kissed back so technically he was the one that showed interest-and now he's going out with that girl! The hypocrite!'

'But didn't _you_ tell him he was free to see other women if he wished to?'

'Yes, but-but-…it's frustrating! I mean she's only just a beautiful...tall...slender blond... with baby blue-eyes… OK, she's a beautiful, nice person –I think- but she's **so dumb**! And she has such an irritating voice, I hate it! And until recently I thought he hated it, too-he hadn't even noticed her prior to this! Humph! To think he tried to make me confess to him almost a year ago, bloody-bastard…' she paused, suddenly all anger gone. 'Um, maybe I shouldn't call him a bastard since he's an orphan because it sounds like I'm making fun of that fact which I'm not…anyway!' she shook her head; Tom tried to give a womanly kind of smile. 'Point is…I didn't think he'd just go ahead and throw himself at someone else-especially so fast! OK, I'd be naïve to think he'd wait for two bloody-years but so soon? And with _her…_! Besides, I got dibs!'

'Huh?'

'Dibs woman! When you see many cookies of different flavours and your favourite is chocolate and there are only ten of each kind you don't go eating all ten-you eat one and then people know you got dibs! So I got dibs-she can't have my chocolate cookies! She can have vanilla if she wants to! And what kind of set of cookies offers to be eaten?'

So if he got this right the many boys were the many flavours, the cookie jar was Hogwarts, he was the chocolate flavoured ones and the kiss was one cookie; hum, interesting-what would her analogy be for six cookies he wondered…?

Camellia though sulked and stopped parading around the room; slowly, she walked to "Jules" and lay in her lap. He felt completely uncomfortable but tried to look nothing like it.

Camellia sighed. 'Why are men such assholes? I mean…is sex the only thing on their minds? I feel so disappointed; why do they all consider us nothing but sex objects?' her voice had started rising and her mood changed again; she looked decided. 'We are not sex objects! Most definitely: not sex objects, kittens or anything! We are human! We are logical human beings with feelings and thoughts and we no longer stand for this!' she threw her fist into the air, completely wrapped up in her own manifesto she sat up in front of Tom and took his hands. 'Swear with me now: we will never allow ourselves to be objectified in any kind of way; we will be proud and independent women who only want to make themselves better by being with men that will only do that!'

'...Do you have your period again hon'?'

Finally! He wanted to ask her that question for _years_ but seeing how she was at every period –or how she was generally- he never dared.

'What do you mean?'

'…Aren't you overreacting?'

Her face fell. 'You are right, we won't do such a thing; I will simply go on a date with Michael!'

. . .

'NO!' how could she even say that! 'You don't go out on dates with people just to make someone jealous; that is plainly ridiculous-…' oh he could finally see what she was doing to him-he had almost started thinking he did something despicable himself. Hadn't he known any better, he'd say the girl knew this was Tom and not Jules...

But Camellia raised her eyebrows at his outburst. 'Jules, do you suddenly have an unfathomable dislike towards the man you've been trying to push me on for the past four years or your own methods of seducing?'

Damn that Jules! He knew she was a bad influence! And he had to persuade her to do something else quickly or else she'd be dating Michael before he knew it! So he thought of a different approach-maybe a little honesty wouldn't hurt.

'You know Cam' maybe you got this wrong: maybe he doesn't really care about sex; maybe he just wants you to understand that he is willing to abide by your rules...'

Camellia looked sceptical, hand on chin; she looked like she'd started doubting both theories -hers and Tom's-. 'You think so? I mean you, as a woman not you as Jules.' she asked still a little sceptical; "Jules" nodded –even if he had no idea what the difference was-.

'Yes; you said yourself that you didn't think he was that kind of man and I agree! He's extremely self-centred but not a creep who'd do anything just so he got into some woman's he doesn't even know pants.'

Oh, he was good: she now looked quite hopeful and like she wanted to be convinced; he gave her the most reassuring and warm smile he could muster.

'…you may be right; after all he was the one who wanted us to be a couple so it's a possibility but I also think he's doing this out of spite…hum, if that's the case I might end up talking to him again.'

'Ha-ha; that's the spirit!' it was a good thing she was so moody after all or he'd have a big problem persuading her…and that didn't apply just for now. 'But I don't understand you. If you feel this way about him why don't you just confront him –I bet he's willing to agree with everything you propose-.'

'Firstly, you don't know that-' Oh but he did, if only did she know! '-but secondly and most importantly are you mad! Tell him I don't want him to see other women even if I was the one who pushed him towards that direction and have no real intention of picking up where I'd left off with him? No! That would be me being a tease!'

'But if you feel this way about him and you do know it then why don't you act on it? Worst case scenario he rejects you for messing with his head, but I doubt it.'

'That's easy for you to say; I have different feelings for him than you have for Malfoy: I'm not in love with him, I-…simply love him. And don't get me wrong, when I say I love him, I don't mean just infatuation or lust-I believe it's all kinds of love. Sometimes like a friend, others like a brother, others –yes- like a lover which is why it's so complicated. It isn't as simple as you and Malfoy. If it were, I'd just ask him out but how do I explain all of these to him? He is introvert as it is, if I say something I feel he'll clam up completely-and I won't go against my gut feeling now! And if he doesn't feel the same way –at least up to a point- then I have no idea how to handle it because he's become a very important part of my life now. So I better find out once we've left Hogwarts when I won't have to see him every day.'

Hang on…what she said did make sense but somehow it felt like something was off; she never really gave him that "vibe", the vibe she was afraid of rejection-quite the contrary: she did whatever she wanted without bearing much thought what the others would say. 'Are you sure it's rejection you're afraid of? Because I believe it's the exact opposite…'

'Oh? You're more cunning than I thought. Fine you're right: he is the one who fears rejection' _I am not!_ 'I'm actually scared he'll want things to go further since I have no idea how to act from then on…But! To be completely honest -and don't be mad Jules I haven't said this yet because the timing was just wrong- I am quite certain that even if we were to date at least there wouldn't be a problem at the "other" department…' Camellia said in the end mischievously…but he completely failed to comprehend what she was referring to.

Still this was heaven! He never dared to imagine things would go this swimmingly. This "transform into a girl" plan had worked!

'Other?' he asked for specification; the girl blushed, but her smile didn't go down.

'You know the "bed" department-well, we only kissed but there was a bed there so I'm calling it like that…' suddenly she got very red 'but we didn't do anything else –I swear we-!'

'I believe you, relax…but how d'you know?'

She blushed again, her smile turned into a sheepish one, -and kind of perverted to be honest- and nudged "her". 'Well, for one thing it felt very natural; it was the first time someone _really_ snogged me, -that kiss from Hector was just a peck so it doesn't count-' he felt his temperature rising but tried to look neutral and forget about it for now…but definitely ask about it later 'but it felt so good! And…very comfortable, very pleasurable! It was like…like…' she was searching for the right word but then she snapped her fingers together 'oh I know! Do you remember that thing with that guy over the summer you told me about?'

'Yes…' _No, but who cares_?

'It was just like that-only with much more momentum. And feelings-…! Well at least from my part.'

'No...!' he said and sounded completely astounded…but truth was he had no idea what had happened with Jules and some random guy over the summer, but apparently it was good enough for Camellia to compare it with what had happened between them. Girls…

'Yes; and what's more-…' she started blushing anew. 'Oh this is so embarrassing…'

'What?' he wanted to know! 'What is it?' really bad!

'Well…this is really embarrassing…but then again you've told me worse! Ahem, I _know_ he definitely felt the same way because he was very-…_excited_, if you get what I mean.' she said meaningfully but…

He lost her. Again. What did she mean? 'In the sense of…?'

Camellia rolled her eyes amused, unable to contain her huge smile. '_Excited_ Jules…' she repeated and tilted her head downwards…

And he finally realized; oh God! This was **very** embarrassing! 'How do you know that!' he asked shocked; he thought she hadn't noticed –how could she anyway-!

'Ha-ha, I could feel it; I told you I was straddling him, didn't I? There was some space separating us but-…oh. Does that-…?' she suddenly stopped and went very pink. 'Oh my, why don't we change the subject? I'm getting dirty thoughts…' she said jokingly but didn't sound like she was lying.

He smirked; it was good to know he wasn't the only one...

'Where was I? Oh right! That girl better keeps her hands to herself or she'll get them back in a body-bag! Oops, what am I saying? Ha-ha, I would do that but too bad I don't know if the nurse can actually put them back; ah, I really want to know how their date will go, but how?'

'You can follow them.'

'Hah! Even if I did know the time and place which I don't-!'

'8 o'clock at the astronomy tower, tomorrow.'

Camellia went perfectly rigid. Oh no, had he done something wrong? Should he have not told her-did he somehow give himself away!

She then headed to him, looking something akin to hypnotized and sat on the bed next to him and then…she hugged him so tight he thought he'd asphyxiate! 'I love you Jules. You are an angel who came to this planet just to make my life better.' she said and when she let go, he could see a huge smile carved across her face.

'I know…'

She chuckled. 'Still, I can't follow them on their date-I won't give him the satisfaction! I still have my dignity left and that girl shan't take it away from me-or that bloody git for whose sake I'm so frustrated! Let him rot I say! I don't care whatever he does anymore-he can go ahead and have the whole school if he likes…! I decided.'

'Fine; but I'm warning you, they'll snog and-…'

'Ha! If they know what's best for-scratch that, she's too stupid; if he knows what's best for them then he'd better keep his hands to himself.'

'I thought you just said-'

'Of course I did and I mean it but the one doesn't cancel the other out-he should have a sense of bonding with me so he shouldn't be snogging some sexy beautiful 5th year who has no merits other than looks!'

He smiled. 'You are completely mental.'

'Why yes dear; what's the fun in being normal?'

'…Sometimes you amaze me.'

'I'm glad I do. Now stop staring at my boobs;' _she noticed it_! 'you act like a guy sometimes Jules, really!'

'Wh-I'm not a guy!' _Actually I am you just don't know that and you shouldn't know that under no circumstances or you'll never speak to me ever again!_ 'By the way, I can't seem to remember the situation when Hector had kissed you; can you remind me?'

'Jules! That was my first kiss-how can you be so inconsiderate? _**I**_ remember yours…'

'I didn't say I forgot all about it, merely the situation under which-'

'Ugh, fine I'll tell you; we'd just finished Ancient Studies –that subject you really never seem to remember, apparently- and he was being all sweet –even walked me all the way to my dormitory- and then, when we were about to separate he just kissed me. Then he smiled enigmatically and said goodnight…next day I told him he was a prat and he said he was sorry because he didn't know I didn't like him and blah, blah, blah. He wasn't a bad kisser-but I didn't kiss him back...!'

'Oh you didn't?' the last shred of his patience was still there.

'Of course not-Jules; who do you take me for? Geez, it was just a short kiss, it barely lasted a moment –he was very ashamed I take it- but he did it. Aw, he is so cute though; lovable little twit.'

'Indeed; a twit.'

He looked at himself; oh no, his skin had started changing colour and he was pretty sure his hair would start getting shorter, too! He did have the potion with him but he saw that there was no more he could pry out of her that would satisfy his ego so he figured it was about time he left!

'Anyway, I'll go but come back in a moment-I just remembered I had to do something. Bye-bye!'

He stood up and ran out immediately; without looking back to see either Camellia was following after him or even shouted at him, he started running to his own dormitory before the potion outlasts him and he ends up in a Ravenclaw girl's robes in the middle of a corridor and –oh the horror- a teacher catches him! He even paid no attention to all the people shouting at him "come here for a sec" and concentrated to get to his room…-and he'd forgotten to send word to Malfoy…of course.

* * *

As a last note, I know this is turning back into a school-life thing but you see they are still in Hogwarts and all...Anyway! Review and/or message please!


	22. A date gone bad or not?

**A/N**: And I kept my promise! Here's the chapter...! When the next chapter will come I have no idea, so I won't be saying anything because I don't want to give any false promises! ^^"

* * *

The next memory came immediately; before their eyes got to adjust to the next setting they were caught by Tom.

He was waiting for Patricia, dressed a little better than usual, while fidgeting with the hem of his robe; he was not by any chance anxious or anything ridiculous as that, but he was merely growing impatient. She was twenty minutes late **already**.

_Girls! Can they never be ready on time? If I have to wait here for more than an additional ten minutes then-…_!

But there was no need for such thoughts because there she finally was, dressed to impress, with every part of herself groomed and detailed. She might have been a lot of things but she definitely wasn't an eyesore. Quite the contrary, she was a feast for the eyes, her long blond hair falling over her thin shoulders while her beautiful blue eyes were demanding every last bit of your attention.

He looked her over a couple of times –deliberately obvious so the girl will feel flattered and hopefully she'd be as agreeable as he wanted her for the rest of the night- before he finally took her hand and kissed it, his eyes never leaving her.

'Hello dear; you look fabulous.'

Oh how seductive of him, the girl was already blushing; he might have hated his father but at least he had to thank him for one thing: his good looks. At least he gave him something, that worthless piece of trash. Of course if one asked him himself, he'd tell you that for the same reason he hated the way he looked but…truth be told it was rather convenient.

'Hello Tom; I'm glad you're still here, for a moment I thought you'd left by now, seeing I was so late, but I'm glad you didn't and I'm so relieved at the same time…!'

Oh no; he could feel his eye twitching already so how in earth would he last two whole hours in her presence? He hated the very thought that Camellia was right about how very annoying Patricia was, talking away all the time…surprisingly when Camellia did that he never seemed to mind; he attributed it to the fact he'd gotten used to it.

'I wouldn't miss this for the world; shall we?' he asked offering his arm. After all, angry or not, he had accepted and he had to be courteous about it…thankfully though the girl did not understand the bad mood his courtesy was masking and took his arm delighted.

'You look so very handsome tonight; I'm really happy to see I'm not the only one who put so much effort into looking their best;'_ my best? She must be joking-this is not even close…_ '-well, you always look good but now you're simply dashing! I mean, I'm considered beautiful but even I feel a little less confident being in your presence. I just love how your robes match your eyes-'

He remembered he'd bought these robes with Camellia and Abraxas' help –shopping was the one thing these two saw eye to eye and he didn't feel the imperative need to chock both to death- and Camellia'd said the exact same thing; the memory brought a smile to his face.

'-and they go perfectly with Slytherin's colours-' that's what Malfoy'd said '-and you look absolutely gobsmacking!'

Well listen to that: she kept complimenting him, boosting his ego without him even asking; she may not have been all that bad after all!

'You look all that plus astonishingly beautiful.' And the compliments were hopefully over. 'So what do you have prepared for us tonight?'

She swelled with pride immediately as she beamed at him 'I've made sure everything is perfect…! But why don't I let you see it for yourself when we get there…?' she said sweetly yet suggestively, suddenly her attractiveness rising two whole levels…she apparently knew how to play this game –judging by her gleaming eyes-; maybe the only thing throwing her off-track was he, not the date…that was a very interesting thought.

She took him by the hand and led him to the astronomy tower without another word; she didn't even turn to look at him again. Oh yes, he was right: she definitely knew how to play this game! Of course he didn't miss the overexcited steps she was making akin to a child wanting to show their mother a feat they accomplished but that was all just a part of her charm he gathered, that carefree attitude. Maybe this would be a fun night…  
She guided him all the way up there, leaving the door closed on purpose; when they stood in front of it she merely pushed it open with her free hand and…an amazing set was revealed: a red table cloth spread across the floor with some comfy-looking pillows…and of course food-food and drinks were there alike, looking tasty and inviting. But hang on…was that four pints of butterbeer he spied there? Hum…she had some vicious intentions for this night, hadn't she?

'Well, what do you think? Isn't it great? It's peaceful and quiet here and we have warmth and I even asked of the house elves to supply us with foods and drinks-and sweets! Oh,' she giggled 'I hope you don't mind I only brought butterbeer; it is the only thing I could find that is not too strong.'

'…or legal for your age young woman!' he said, faking a stern speech; she giggled again.

'I didn't think of it like that, to be completely honest.' she confined in him and blushed with her mischievous smile; he smirked.

'What a daring girl, disregarding the laws!'

'Aw, thank you sweetie…'

.

This once his eye did twitch; had she just called him "sweetie" for no particular reason? He felt his skin crawl, but tried to ignore the outright annoyance as he sat down next to her, following her –very vivid he might say- example and masked it again with another crooked smile.

But as he sat down and examined everything closer, he was rather surprised: the foods and drinks –the sweets even- were all to his liking! Considering he knew for a fact she hadn't gone anywhere near his friends –male or female, as he had specifically asked them to let him know is she did- to ask for anything then it was most impressive how she managed to match his tastes so well! Was she smarter than she looked, did she merely have an eye for this kinds of things or was she plainly lucky?

'Everything looks quite delicious…'

She giggled again; in the beginning he thought it was a little over the top but now he'd gotten used to it so he could easily block it out. 'The way to a man's heart goes through his stomach, correct?'

There it was again; the intentionally drooping eyes that were nevertheless piercing him, the suggestiveness in her voice, and she even scooped a little closer to him…_sexy kitten, huh? Not bad_… he thought pleased.

'We shall see…' he said seductively himself, never leaving her gaze; he saw her cheeks burn red. Heh, he was not bad at this himself, even if he was out of practise-actually, he'd never practised this before. He took a piece of the first thing he saw lying on the clothe and bit in carefully...and it was 'Delicious...! But, to be fair, I prepared a little something of my own, too:'

He flicked his wand and a bunch of candles appeared, surrounding them; with another subtle, almost undetectable, flick the candles lit up...

'It's so beautiful...' the candles were not only burning bright but each flame burnt a different colour and gave off a different scent, their incense piercing their nostrils pleasantly; she inhaled deeply '...and nice; how did you know I liked candles?'

'I'm very good at this sort of thing you see.'

'Oh Tom...' she said shyly and blushed.

This was perfect: the date had just started yet he could do with her whatever he wanted!

'Why don't you have some food, too though? You must be quite hungry.'

The ultimate test, Malfoy told him, if a girl will eat in front of you or not; of course it depends on their personality and their actual food capacity but he'd already heard her stomach rumble and he was definite she was the type not to eat in front of men if she was serious about them thus if she did eat it would only mean this was a lost cause...

'Oh, not really...'

.

.

And he definitely had her; he smirked beside himself. 'Well, never mind; you can always have a butterbeer with me.' he said and winked as he took two of the four pints and gave one to her.

'Right! Cheers: to a wonderful date!'

'Indeed; to a wonderful date...' he took a sip, always peering at her...and was left utterly surprised when he saw her down the whole pint in one breath greedily! 'Wow, slow down a bit there...!'

'Sorry!' she coughed 'I just wanted to...' she coughed again 'to muster up some courage to tell you this:' she sobered up completely –yet he could detect her flustered cheeks which spoke of a slight dizziness due to the alcohol- and looked deeply into his eyes. 'I want to...' but she wavered and looked down.

'...Yes...?' he prompted.

'I...want to...' she looked up decisively. 'I want to become a witch who shall establish cosmetic sorcery as a real occupation!'

'Huh?'

He was left completely speechless; that was the last thing he'd expected to hear from her. Look at that, she was somewhat fun to be around –not as annoying as he'd expected her at least- and that was a good thing! Maybe Camellia wasn't that necessary to him after all; if he could only get Patricia to be a little more relaxed around him then he could be less worried about saying or doing the wrong thing and he might as well get to make Cam jealous **and** find himself a beautiful docile young woman as his girlfriend. After all, it was Camellia who'd arbitrarily decided they shouldn't date and didn't even tell him how she really felt about him. Plus Patricia was very attractive and if only he taught her to think a little more...! Alright, that was a bit of a stretch but who knew, if he talked to her a little more then maybe he'd find out she was smarter than she looked.

'...is why I want to be into cosmetic magic! What do you think?'

Bloody hell! She's been talking to him this whole time and he didn't even realize! And she even asked something...Considering he paid no attention to her ranting whatsoever he might as well go with the regular approach.

'What do your parents say about it?'

The girl seemed to have found new vigour from the question. 'Oh they think it is a wonderful idea-I'll have the exclusivity and the franchise and since I love it so much then there is no problem!'

'Ah, true...'

.

.

.

Then there was silence...and a long one.

'So, um...what about _**your**_ future plans Tom?'

'Hum, let's see; I want to...' _be a powerful dark lord who will kill or enslave all muggleborns...OK, maybe I should go at it with another approach..._ 'I'd like to make something of myself; I don't have a certain plan but I want to be something important!'

'Oh? That's great! I expected no less from you! What do you think about the ministry of magic-you can get a good place there especially with your skills and intelligence? What do you think about being an Auror?'

'I dunno; sounds goo-'

'Or maybe an executive position? Or even an unspeakable!'

'Oh that I'd dare not even think about; it's Cam's chosen career path.' Oh no! He talked about another girl-Malfoy said that it was a taboo, especially when the girl in question was rumoured to be dating you!

'So?' Patricia asked wondered.

'Are you kidding? I wouldn't be able to stand her both at work **and** home!'

They both laughed; he salvaged it, thank Merlin. "If you talk about another girl then you can save it by saying something not too flattering about her" was Malfoy's advice –as apparently he thought this would happen-. But wait, the way he'd phrased the last bit it implied she'd be with her even after Hogwarts! Hopefully, she didn't get it...

'Come on, don't be mean to her' thank Merlin she didn't get it 'she's very nice: if it weren't for her I'd have no idea what to do tonight!'

Wait what! 'What do you mean Camellia' _Oops, too forceful _'-err, what did she do?' he amended with a quick smile in the end.

'Well...' she blushed and smiled 'for starters she chose all of the food, sweets and drinks as well as the idea of the "picnic"-and it was her who said to get you butterbeer only because you really _really_ like it-' _well, at least she had the decency to lie about my alcohol tolerance which is close to zero_, he thought bitterly 'and it was her who advised me on what to say or what not.'

Aha! He'd gotten her! If it was Camellia who was advising her on what to say then she definitely sabotaged her-!

'Then again I wasn't supposed to say anything about the cosmetic magic –tee hee hee- because she told me you have serious commitment issues...but you don't look like that at all! I am certain she was merely overreacting...'

'A-ha-ha...' he chuckled uncomfortably; he most certainly had not commitment issues! But Camellia was right in advising her against bringing up the "cosmetic magic" topic as he was utterly uninterested in it...Hum... 'Well, she was wrong about my commitment issues but did she really tell you all of these?'

'Well yes! She's great, that girl is; she helped me with a lot of things generally and been a sweetheart to me even if I kept annoying her every ten minutes, so to speak, ha ha-she even wished me luck! She's a keeper, that one; you said you were friends since first year, no?'

'Yeah...how kind of her...but why don't we stop talking about her? Tell me something else about yourself.'

The girl looked apologetic and started thinking. 'Well...I think I look lovely tonight...' said she, a little timid.

He smirked; her hesitance yet boldness to actually say such a thing, and even fishing for a compliment...she sought his approval! 'You don't look simply nice, you are beautiful; your robes are the nicest colour, too.'

Always compliment their outfits, they love it; law number 2 in the dating service according to Abraxas Malfoy.

'Oh really? Camellia suggested I wear these, too-said the exact same thing: wear green, he loves it! Isn't she great?'

He smothered a laugh; this woman was sabotaging herself the way she kept mentioning her!

'Well, she is my best friend-had she not known about that I'd be very disappointed.'

'Ha-ha, right! Well, she is very smart...! Oh, I should stop talking about her...So um-Oh my God, is that a scar on your hand!'

'A what...?' He saw her staring at the palm of his right hand shocked; he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'oh, this? Well, yes, it's a scar.'

'It looks dreadful! And deep!' she went on in the same appalled tone.

'Yes, it rather was.'

'Oh poor you...' she said but suddenly beamed at him 'but I can fix it! D'you want me to?' He raised an eyebrow questioningly 'I have developed a special cream for this!'

'Oh...I don't mean to inconvenience you, please don't.'

'But I have it with me, it's no inconvenience!'

'Really?' he was more incredulous than surprised; what was wrong with this girl to carry a thing like that around?

'Yes, it's right here-'

'Ah, please don't; I don't mind, I've gotten used to it.'

'But I can make it go away very easily; why would you want to keep a scar that only brings memories of such pain-?'

'Please don't mind my scar' he said politely -but if Camellia was there he knew she'd understand he was very angry- 'I actually quite like it; funny how it happened' _self-inflicted actually_ 'so please don't pay any mind to it at all...And please stop informing me on what Camellia advised you about, it's weird.' _Especially since I saw her freaking out about this date half a day ago_. 'Tell me something else about you instead...'

She blushed again but considered 'I love divination...and right before I left from the dormitory I checked the astronomical chart and it said great happiness for today...'

'Oh is that so? What else did the chart say?' he asked going closer...but for an unfathomable reason he felt uncomfortable, like someone was watching him. No, it couldn't be; Camellia had told him –aka "Jules"- she wouldn't spy on them...and she couldn't lie to her best friend! But what if she'd changed her mind? Nah, he was just imagining it.

'Well...' she scooped closer, too; the scent of the candles, which were specifically picked by him, was such to arise passions within people...and it definitely did so for the girl in front of him. That was fortunate. But the fact it didn't do the same for him was a little less fortunate. '...the stars also spoke of a new beginning.'

She was still looking away...and he still felt like someone was watching him. And he could even swear he'd heard someone chuckle when she'd told him about cosmetic magic...no, it was all in his head; he pushed the thought aside. 'A new beginning huh...?' he inquired suggestively...but he couldn't ignore this feeling-it was all in his head, right?

'Yes; **our** beginning...' she looked into his eyes; it was all in his head, right?

'Ours you say?'

'Yes; our...common...beginning...'

She leaned in, her eyes half-closed; her lips, parted, started moving towards his...

Oh whom was he trying to kid? This woman and he were void of any actual chemistry and her big effort of putting his hand right only angered him –he did say no thrice!- all the more so...no. He shouldn't be giving her false hopes.

He evaded.

* * *

The girl almost forward; did he just-...! She couldn't believe he just dodged her-no man had ever done that before! She was even famous for being a good kisser and just as she'd actually found a man she wanted to finally have sex with he dodged her! She was so certain that all this was some certain individual's fault...Camellia! But if that was the case then why did she advise her? Everything seemed to work in her favour -all that she did anyway-...Then could it be Tom who was interested in her?

But then she heard a sound...like laughter!

'Did you hear that?' Patricia asked alerted immediately, looking everywhere around her in an effort to find the source; it was creepy but it felt as if that laugh answered her thoughts...and at long last, Tom knew: he wasn't imagining anything; someone was indeed watching them and if his guess was correct then the culprit was a certain flower.

'Yes I did; I will go check. But don't be frightened, I am sure it is not important.'

* * *

He'd heard where the sound had come from and had he been any other average wizard student he would not have a clue as to where to look, but he was different: there was a hidden compartment on that floor that he'd found out about when he was running from Dippet and he was the only one who knew...and he'd only showed it to one more person: Camellia.  
So he headed there immediately, yet concealing what he was doing from the girl he was with –who had her eyes glued on his back as he went, anxious- he grabbed the hatch's door and opened it!

'_Camellia._' he didn't really ask, he stated –always whispering-, eyebrow raised.

'Humph-_hi Tom_.' She tried to sober up. '_Lovely date you're having_...'

'_Oh shut up_!' he snapped, crouched over the hatch's door, still making it impossible for Patricia to see.

She tried to smother another laugh. '_Cosmetic magic; isn't it **brilliant**_?' she drawled on the last word.

'_I said: Shut. Up! And why didn't you tell me if you knew about thi_s?'

'_Well, I found out when she asked me and I couldn't tell you __**then**__-but admit it, you hate it_!'

'_Fine, I admit it, it's horrible; but it's your fault because if only did you agree to us date-...sorry, I promised_.' He blurted out in the end, seeing her change ten colours. '_Just get me out of here_!'

She chuckled. '_Alright...under one condition_!'

'_What_?'

'_You'll never tell anyone I was here-anyone! The only one who knows is Jules and I'd like to keep it that way; in fact she was the one who suggested it_.'

He smirked; if only did she know...

'A_lright; now get me out_!'

She winked! She nodded for him to leave as she got her wand out; he winked back...

* * *

'Tom? Well, who was it?' probed his date, an uncomfortable feeling resting in her stomach. He didn't think she suspected anything that had just transpired but he was impressed that the girl sensed the sudden change in him, even if very subtle. The fact this was all a woman's intuition made him rather uneasy at the thought but what did he care? This horrid date would be over soon and he'd worry about the rest later.

'Nothing, just a rat-

'Eek!'

-but I chased it away, relax.'

'Few...' she sighed a breath of relief. He smiled; if Camellia was smart –that she was- then she knew what she had to do: Patricia feared rats! 'So, um, I was wondering, err, I mean I meant to ask you...have you and Camellia ever-since you're always together, I wouldn't-KYAH! Oh my GOD! Rats, rats everywhere; Tom, do something! KYAH!'

She physically jumped in Tom's arms; he, almost smirking, realized what Camellia did in order to destroy their date: hallucinations charm –considering there were no real mice around for a far as the eye could see-!

'Dear, relax; they are all in your head. I see no rats.' he said, trying to soothe her, yet under no circumstances did he let her down; he didn't mean to scare her after all and she appeared to like it there.

'What the blazes are you talking about-they're everywhere! Please, kill them, get them away from me-...oh no! Your hand, it's bleeding! Let's go to the infirmary quickly!' she shrieked, an ear-piercing sound that made him cringe.

'OK, let's.'

He could swear he heard more chuckling but it slowly disappeared thus he figured Camellia must have already left so this was about the time for them to leave, too; maybe she heard them and she headed to the infirmary herself. 'But you should know I do not bleed and there are no rats around thus we'll go there so the nurse will cast a disillusionment charm on you, OK? And the house elves will take care of things here...' –a statement that made Hermione wants to punch his thick skull-. He immediately snapped his fingers and the elves appeared.

She nodded scared, clinging on to him, looking everywhere around frightfully; as they headed to the infirmary, he felt her burring her face into his chest whimpering a number of times, while small tears dumped his shirt...yet she spared some adoring looks for the man who carried her all the way to their destination and never let her go until she was safely on a rat-free bed.

The nurse, as soon as he sighted them, instead of surprised he looked rather mischievous as if he was expecting them...and Tom was sure he did: Camellia, she must have been here.

'What seems to be the problem young couple?'

The girl blushed to that, but Tom's utter ignorance to the title made her deflate a little.

'She's seeing things sir: inexistent rats and my wound bleeding when it's perfectly alright; I believe someone bewitched her into seeing these things.'

'Ah, you believe it don't you? I'm sure you'll have a reason...'

Tom chuckled. 'Yes sir...' Was the girl not hallucinating Tom was certain she would have spotted the suggestiveness in the nurse's voice but right now she did so much as notice Tom's eye colour, not even his own chuckle.

'Well, whatever the reason, it's expecting you right there.' Tom's eyes went wide; the nurse chuckled, too the familiar dimples forming on his sun-burnt long face. 'I mean a person you know is also here behind the curtain; you go see them and I'll take care of your date.'

Tom smiled gratefully at the older man –yet not so old; ten years didn't make much of a difference- and the nurse smiled knowingly, winking his chocolate brown eyes. He shook his head amused; oh the messes he found himself in with girls when he was at Tom's age...well, his golden locks always helped with that –even now he could see some of the students look at him in a dreamy way- and his crooked smile had won over many women –even men, but he was never really interested in that-. Ah, the sting of love; he'd give anything to bring a young beautiful female teacher here so he could feel it, too but no use...

* * *

When Tom peeked behind the curtain carefully, he saw Camellia sitting up with her back against the railing; her legs were crossed yet stretched across the bed –or at least to where she reached- and a book was lying in her lap as she skimmed it over; the moment he appeared she turned to him, a wicked small smile as his welcome. He sneaked behind the curtains with her hastily and sat on her bed.

'Hello there, little spy; how did the stake-out go?'

She smiled wider 'Brilliant! But technically, I'm a double agent-I've given both a lot of help!'

'Humph!' he faked offense 'and you call yourself me friend?'

'Heh! I'm also a woman, dear; I couldn't possibly leave her alone after seeing her so anxious and scared-well, not _really_ scared but you know what I mean...'

'Yes, yes I do. Huh...poor her, we couldn't make any sort of connection and the only things I liked where those you recommended; sad, isn't it? And you could have given me a heads-up for that matter.'

'Well...she had sworn me to secrecy; no woman breaks such a vow!'

He rolled his eyes 'of course you wouldn't; even if you hated her you'd protect her secrets to your death just because she is a woman!'

'Well, I don't really hate her but god knows I dislike her...! Either way, you should go back to her; she is scared, confused and hallucinating-she definitely needs your coddling right now.'

He was pleased to find a tinge of bitterness in her voice as she said the last, her nose turned up a little, since it indicated she was really hurt by this date, even if she didn't say anything to remotely suggest that; yet he knew the sole reason she followed them tonight –or spied on them anyway- was because she wanted to keep an eye on them in case things turned out well.

So he wanted to torture her by saying he'd go swiftly to Patricia had she suggested he did it or not but somehow he couldn't see himself spending the rest of the night next to Patricia's bed, holding her hand through the charm or escorting her to Hufflepuff dormitory as he figured it would be even more boring than her rant about her future plans. 'Well, she might as well stay with the nurse; he will give her all the love and doting she needs. I am in no mood to be coddling or anything like it. So move over, I'm staying here with you.' he said decisively and from the other side of the bed he was sitting, he sat next to her. He pushed her more to the side with his elbow while he tried to make himself comfortable.

'Tom, I am not really ill or hurt, you do realize that, right? I have no reason to stay here-?'

He cut her off immediately, seeing where she was going with this. 'Look at the time Cam'! All the beds are empty so unless a sudden magical highly contagious virus breaks out during the night –which I find highly unlikely- then there is no need not to stay here; I am quite confident the nurse will allow us.'

She seemed convinced but she still had her doubts; after all, if they were to stay there during the night then they needed a solid excuse to the man who ran the infirmary and certainly they needed an excuse to stay away from Patricia who would definitely stay the night as her spell was a little too powerful –she did harbour ill-feelings for the girl who wanted to date "her man" (as she called him with her friends)-. 'Wh-...really? But what will we say to him? And what about Patricia? The spell was quite strong...' she really didn't mind, in fact she wanted to stay with him there especially after her triumph over the blond, she even saw it as an opportunity to renew their friendship...well, relationship anyway –as it wasn't a friendship per se- and since she was a little mad at him this seemed like the perfect chance for them to come closer.

'Well, we'll tell him to keep Patricia away from us during the night and I bet even if we tell him the truth he still won't mind and let us here.'

'What do you mean "if"? I told him the whole truth already!' Tom chuckled surprised. 'Well, he did make me promise him that as punishment for what I did and in order for him to keep it a secret I'll have to help him whenever he needs it for this whole year but it's a small price to pay!'

He laughed in a hushed tone but that managed to earn him an elbow drop that knocked the air out of his lungs momentarily; he coughed but regained his breath easily as the laugh still hadn't subsided. Also, he was rather pleased she admitted that the spell was extra powerful as it was a hint of the spite she held for Patricia and the reason why she did. 'An extra powerful spell, huh?'

'Oh shut up...and move! If we're to stay here for the night then we might as well each find a bed-'

'Each? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no you didn't get this right; we'll sleep _here_, **together**.'

'What? **No**! This bed is too small for the both of us anyway!'

'Come on, you aren't that fat; we'll be fine! Just don't squirm a lot during the night.'

'_Tom_! How can you-? Ugh, gerroff my bed!'

She tried to push him and make him fall off but no luck; he was firmly griping the railing behind her back and wouldn't let go. 'See? You're squirming even now and its fine for the both of us-

'Ugh!' did she, desperate; she tried to stand up but he grabbed her and pulled her back down.

-so sit your arse down and go to sleep; besides I thought you were tired...I'll take care of both the nurse **and** Patricia. Now sleep.' She was about to protest but he gave her a strict look. 'Now.' He repeated severely and stared her down; she gave a half-hearted smile and gave in.

* * *

She would never admit it to him or to anyone –she still hasn't even admitted it to Jules- but she enjoyed Tom's bossy attitude a very big deal, especially when it was concerned with matters such as these; he practically took her in his arms and made her sleep in the same bed with him...how much more could she ask for? Not that she wasn't the one who stirred things in this direction.

'...Fine. Goodnight Tom.' she mumbled as she slid down and lay on the bed next to him-even if she practically slid in his embrace as he was still holding her.

''Night Camellia; but for the love of Merlin do dress more modestly next time, will you? Look at your clothes-did you really have to wear _these_? The skirt is too short and your shirt-three whole buttons are undone...'

He was so warm...and his heart-beat was so rhythmical, like a lullaby...and his voice was soothing no matter what it said... 'Mm...'

'You're falling asleep aren't you?'

'Mm...'

'And you don't really understand what I'm telling you, do you?'

'Mm...'

'Well then, I might as well tell you that I think you're crazy and I never really liked Patricia. I also transformed into Julia to sneak into your dormitory and see what you really feel about me thus we return back to my original argument, you're crazy, because you are actually in love with me yet you helped Patricia to a successful date.'

'Mm...' And she was fast asleep.

He smirked beside himself as he watched her chest going up and down synchronized with his...He enjoyed watching people go about their activities but he also enjoyed watching the certain girl even if all she was doing was humming; without realizing his hands ran down her body, tracing her curves: from her shaped hips to her plump tummy and he even dared to caress her breasts. Even if he didn't dare do it under her clothes –in fear she'll wake up-, it still sent small electrical surges down his spine; Goosebumps spread all over him, making his skin crawl in a very pleasant way. He couldn't help himself but do it again.

As he did, he heard her moan while snuggling up to him; _why she likes it, the little deviant_, he thought amused and he kept running his hand up and down the outline of her figure -that now blended in with his- while her breath tickled his neck in a very arousing way. Now that he thought about it, if his dates with other women ended up like this one then he should definitely be on more of them. Of course the very fact they were lying on a bed and he was feeling aroused while she was sleeping it wasn't the best thing...But before he had time to think about it, he was also falling asleep; his hands were resting on Camellia's hips, while hers were hugging his waist, and their heads were glued together to their foreheads.

When the nurse returned to check up on them, he saw them both sleeping serenely as their breaths warmed one another. He shook his head for the umpteenth time that day; he didn't know -and he couldn't have in all honesty- he was gazing at the most evil dark lord of their century at that moment but the way he looked, he could have fooled even Harry about his innocence. He looked...almost _human_ the way he was lying next to Camellia, the way he was sleeping with her, the way he argued about silly ordinary things with her, even the way he was criticizing her clothes.  
Still, the older man smiled recollecting at the sight of the two intertwined youngsters that looked nothing but innocent as they slept and, after he shook his head, he took the blanket that was only half covering them and tucked them in. There was no use waking them up now; he would let them rest -and keep Patricia away from them- and have them pay for it in the morning-he needed a lot of extra hands this year after all, ha-ha-ha...!

'Your failed even though valorous attempt of an evil laugh jerked me out of my sleep; if you want even half of the things you imagined realized though I'd advise you to successfully keep Patricia away from us sir. And yes; you laughed out loud.' Tom said between sleep and awareness, his lips moving lower than ever before.

The nurse laughed, amused this once. 'As you wish young over-demanding man...'

* * *

Please review! =3


	23. Room of Requirement

**A/N**: Dam ta ra ra~ a new chapter! And I wasn't even one month late...! Wow.

Ahem, back to the actual story, this is Tom finding the Room of Requirement. Hope you enjoy dears!

* * *

The nurse's deep voice accompanied the four people who were watching to the surface; it almost felt appropriate that his manly drawl was the one who finished this scene because this memory only aroused passions within the young people.

While young lord Voldemort's arms ran up and down his plaything's body, the two boys' hands felt glaringly empty, as if their wives' bodies were supposed to be there, too. They weren't, hence they felt something was missing. But the two young wives felt the exact same way: why had their husbands' hands had not been there to caress their less defined but most certainly existent curves? They too felt incomplete as their touch was missing; suddenly they were feeling the irresistible need to be with their spouses –proof of that was that now, instead of standing next to another sex-wise, they became pairs, each going to their respectable mate-.

But why did they feel such a strong desire wash over them in so little a time? Hermione felt like her science teacher had just bathed Ron in anthropines –_the human pheromones_, she explained in her head since she could imagine Ron asking her the question-! Maybe this had a direct connection to the fact that they were all being influenced by the young dark lord's feelings and desires. They were his memories after all...If that was the case, and she was more than confident that it was, then she could safely say that the man was not one of half-arsed feelings; he felt everything to their extreme and when he wanted something he _had_ to have it. She almost admired his attitude. Too bad he wasn't able to recognise half the feelings Camellia stirred within him.

.

.

'Um...Hermione, why don't you show us the next memory?' Ginny asks politely, yet her friend can hear the discomfort or the slight strain in her voice; now Hermione knew she wasn't the only one with this sudden crazy erotic desire that surged through her.

'But...we usually comment-.' started she, irresolutely, but there was left no room for second thoughts:

'Forget comments. Let's just go to the next one now!'

Her husband's mute agreeing with his best friend, as he nodded strenuously, looking deeply into his wife's eyes, compelled her into agreeing; she was certain had they talked this out, this sexual mood would be gone as they would no longer be affected by the dark lord's wishes but apparently they thought differently. Or maybe they didn't think of that at all. Either way, Hermione shrugged and did as she was repeatedly told: her sole regret was that this memory wasn't their _last_; then, at the very least, Voldemort's sexual frustration would have proved useful for the couples should it be exercised on them during the night...

She only hoped this next one wasn't similar and she most profoundly wished the rest of Tom's impulses –sexual or _homicidal_- didn't have such a strong impact on them. She then poured the contexts of the pouch into the pensive once more and yet again they found themselves at Hogwarts facing at Tom and Camellia...

.

.

.

'...Camellia? Tom! Is that you?'

Jules was shocked to find Camellia and her male best friend -who were rumoured to be amongst the brightest individuals in Hogwarts- doing nothing but standing there, their eyes transfixed at a bare wall with absolutely nothing interesting about it yet they were looking so closely one would think they saw something the rest didn't...or they'd finally gotten mad. And by the looks the very few people still going about in that corridor were giving them, she'd bet they thought the latter.

Mary was a highly conflicted individual: she would hate her very blond hair one day and then she'd love it the next; also, she would think one person is the most brilliant in the whole school and next day she thinks he is just a very weird, better-stay-away-from person. And that person is standing right before her: Tom Marvolo Riddle, prefect and a straight "O"s student with an impeccable record, dashing good looks and a crooked smile to die for. But apparently he was also crazy. And so was Camellia for that matter. Thank god Mary wasn't Julia or Andria and she didn't have to sleep in the same room with her, she thought relieved as she raised an eyebrow questioningly nonetheless.

Well, truth be told, she didn't like Camellia; she used to, just not anymore. They never really were friends but he liked her attitude and her style. But lately, due to the fact she was adamantly against Jules dating Malfoy, a couple Mary thought was meant to be, she started disliking her. Also, she thought Camellia wanted Malfoy for herself which was why she kept her best friend at bay. Her eyes flashed a deeper brown out of mere frustration yet she didn't stop wondering what the bloody hell these two were doing here.

'It is us obviously; I deem your question dimwitted and childish.'

'Don't be mean Tom;' Camellia scolded him which only earned her a look of bored exasperation from him, without even making the trouble to look at her. Still, she continued like a mother talking to a child 'Jules, just go already. Can't you see we're in the middle of something important?'

'I wouldn't call important staring at the wall for no reason...' Mary interjected. She liked Jules and she didn't want her to be talked at like that; if these two had no manners then they should learn some.

Apparently that was what Tom thought, too yet about Mary as he seemed to get a little angry at that last statement. 'You have no knowledge of our reason to be standing here thus you cannot tell it does not exist; and because it does I'd advise you to leave already.'

'Please Jules, go; and tell Andria she can have my bed for what she wanted it.'

And she'd leave; honestly, she was even prepared to drag Mary away but... 'Did you just imply you won't be coming to your bed tonight?'

She had really started wearing down her patience now...'Yes, I believe I did loud and clear. So go!'

She looked at Camellia for a long time and then at Tom...her and Tom...until she finally made the connection: they'd be sleeping together! Wow! That was a big decision to make and Camellia hadn't even consulted with her first but...she knew it would be for the best. Everything always was when Camellia was concerned as she somehow always did the right thing -something that frustrated her best friend a lot-. So she just smiled, giving up, and did as her best friend instructed; after all she must have a good reason for not telling her and she'd found out tomorrow.

'Let's go Mary!' said she pleasantly after seconds of consideration, all too delicately cutting Mary off and dragging her away –just as the girl was about to say something, probably a protest- and made for their dormitory which was but a few metres away.

Mary was displeased...but accepted it. She would get back at Camellia tomorrow when the whole school would know about this and then she'd really comprehend the meaning of "rumour fans are having a field day". Oh yes she would...

* * *

'You'll be spending the night out, is it?' asked Tom wickedly... But seeing her methodical way of ignoring him he changed his tactics –even if the blush that crept to her cheeks was deemed satisfactory by the man-. 'That girl was annoying; who is she?'

'Mary Ravenclaw Canley, a fourth year...nice girl' she added after a moment's consideration 'so what are we looking at exactly?'

'Now that everyone is gone...' said he suggestively as he took a final peek around them '...I may show you my latest brilliant find: a doorway to an amazing room!'

A probing raised eyebrow was all it took to communicate her question; amused as she was to his never-ending resources of surprising her, she also decided sometimes he was trying too hard. 'Inside the wall?' _Then again he did find a legendary chamber said not to exist but in children's tales..._ 'What kind of room?'

His smirk grew. 'A laboratory!'

'A laboratory?' she echoed surprised; that answer was the last she expected.

'Yes, a laboratory; I found it yesterday when I was in dire need of one because I really had to try out a new potion and it just appeared in this direct spot! So all I have to do now is wish for it!'

He shut his eyes and he spread out his hands, as if showing something on the wall or praying to some God; inside him he was chanting again and again for the room to reveal itself...and then he opened them!

. . .

But nothing; he deflated.

'Well, wish for it already!' said she expectant.

'I did but...' and then it occurred to him! 'wait here.'

From perplexed to disappointed and then back to exited in a matter of seconds, he did exactly what he'd done yesterday when he was trying to hide from Dippet -as the annoying old man lately wanted every bit of his attention- while Camellia watched him, a mixture of amusement and daze: he ran to the far end of the hall -to save time- and then he started pacing up and down in front of the spot the room was supposed to appear; he did it once; he did it twice; he did it thrice...

As he was about to do it the fourth time, there it was: two doors had started forming out of the stone of the wall; big and imposing, they were ready to be opened, inviting you to do it.

* * *

'He found the Room-!'

'-of Requirement Hermione, we see that.' said all three indignant; they'd all been to Hogwarts and what's more into that room more than a dozen of times so it felt silly she would need to remind them.

* * *

Now he was finally pleased: her wide eyes and her hanging chin that spoke of utmost yet impressed surprise made him feel like he was supposed to. Superior. He hated the thought though, to know that a mudblood was enough to make him feel so important because that automatically meant she could just as easily turn the tables...and that was a horrible thought indeed. He didn't even realise when she started having such influence on him and he didn't like it but...he only knew the facts and fact was she was a person who affected his mood according to hers. So pathetic he was and he knew it but he only hoped the rest wouldn't know and that he'd eventually grow out of it.

'...Wow. I mean-...Wow.' she was in an apparent loss for words as she was scrutinizing this peculiar entrance; the magnitude of what she was seeing robbed her of her verbal responses. 'This is honestly wicked! Just what-?...why were you on this floor again? Ah, never mind-can we go in please?'

He stepped aside and grabbing the knobs of the doors, he gestured her inside wordlessly. She giggled; she reminded her of those battlers who open the doors to rich men and women and the thought alone elated her: they both knew Tom was a man who wanted to have _other _people open doors for him, he shouldn't be doing it for someone else! But the fact he did for her was enough to make him adorable in her eyes.

She bowed her head slightly in appreciation, behaving like how royalty should, and ran inside immediately.

'This room is incredible! Look at all of the-...um didn't you say the room was a lab? Then why is this a...bedroom?'

He himself was completely dumbfounded; she was right, this shouldn't be a bedroom but the lab he had encountered yesterday and _where he had stored his potions_! But now it was completely different! Why? Could it be because she was with him? No, that didn't make sense. The time was certainly not an issue as yesterday he'd come around the same time...but could it be that last night he needed a place to brew a potion, thus such a place appeared? Then maybe now that he no longer needed a lab and instead a place to rest, away from prying eyes, this _bedroom_ appeared! Yes, that has to be it! Well, if that was the case then Camellia being with him did influence his decision: she had said she wouldn't be sleeping at her room tonight, which had only given him "weird" -alright, yes, inappropriate- thoughts hence the _bed_room... 'It is the same room no doubt but I believe it changes its shape in accordance to the person's who opens it wishes.' Yes, his wishes were **_those_** and he didn't have to hide that fact from himself, he was old enough to admit he had urges at all times of day with the slightest of hints.

She of course was already looking around the room, trying to take everything in: she'd gathered as much as he told her herself but now she was looking around this bedroom. And what a bedroom! There were two king-sized beds, separated by mere feet's distance; they were decorated with embroidered silk sheets and pillows, while in between them –forming a circle- lay two comfortable (and expensive)-looking sofas with a small wooden coffee table right it the middle; it was polished and ornate with beautiful carvings. At the back of the two beds -completing the circle- stood a relatively big bookcase with glass doors and vine carvings on the wood matching the ones on the glass that was brimming with books.  
But what she really loved about this room was how both beds were decorated with different colours and patterns, matching his and her personal preferences: the one was covered with Ravenclaw blue sheets and Ravenclaw bronze pillows, which were all embroidered with vines, tree branches and leaves; the other bed had Slytherin green sheets with Slytherin silver pillows which were all embroidered with snakes, Chinese dragons and tails...

'If I recall correctly I believe this is called the "come and go room"? Something I read about it once in a book about Hogwarts...'

'Yes the room of Requirement; book: Hogwarts, a history...'

The fleeting thought "oh my God, another Hermione" passed through everyone's mind at that point of course, with the exception of the person in question who merely congratulated Camellia on actually having read up on this thing.

But all four people watching the young couple came immediately to one easy conclusion: lord Voldemort had a dirty mind. And if the bedroom alone wasn't enough then, at the far back of the room, there lay another bed, a huge one, which apparently the girl hadn't noticed yet or else -they were sure- she'd have commented on it. It was a mixture of both dormitories colours: it was the only one that had drapes around it but even they weren't much of a cover as they were transparent; still, they were beautiful as they changed colours by taking all shades of silver as it shone in the candle light. The bed itself was covered by a bronze, almost golden, soft-looking blanket while the many pillows were stacked on the bed in a beautiful pattern.

Lord Voldemort not only did he have a dirty mind but he was also a man who enjoyed sumptuousness!

'If the room does change to the needs and wishes of the person who opens it then that means you wanted it to turn into a bedroom; am I the only one who thinks it suspicious?'

Apparently she'd spotted the problem herself; yet she didn't sound that suspicious about it. Maybe she didn't really mind him having a dirty mind. They were sure she wasn't that far behind anyway...So instead she was prancing around, busying herself with everything she could find: she felt the silk of the sheets on her hands, and how soft it was...the fluffy pillows on the sofas; it all felt so relaxing. She could get used to this sort of arrangement. Very fast.

Then -as soon as she discovered it- she ran to the bookcase; she was so excited to see something like that there!

'Heh, Ravenclaws...such bookworms.' said Tom as he followed her.

She disregarded his mostly annoying comment –she _really_ wasn't one for stereotypes- but she was too interested in her new find to pay even the slightest bit of attention to him so she kept reading the titles of the books as she browsed. 'Oh, this one looks very interesting: "One hundred and one potions: the legacy of Old Magick" and this one: "Dark Magick in the service of the light". Hum...' she took them out of their shelves, shoving them in his hands '"How to make the perfect spell"...well that one sounds pretentious.'

'Then don't read it.'

. . .

He could have said that you can disapparate out of Hogwarts and Hermione wouldn't have looked at him in such shock yet also anger; still, Camellia did as she snatched the books away from him, in fear _the books_ might hit him for his ignorance and discourtesy –_to dare think you read a book only because you like it and not the knowledge it so selflessly offers you, what a heretic_, thought she distressed. Yet, despite her clearly overreacting –or never reacting _accordingly_- he couldn't feel more amused as he thumbed the edges of the books she'd given him –and she had now reclaimed. 'Fine; read it even if you **don't** like it.' She sat down. 'Honestly, you really are such a bookworm.'

'_You_ thought of this room up and you're calling _me_ a bookworm...?' said she cunningly in her defence, while she started reading the first book of the three she chose.  
She stretched herself on the couch the more she could, leaving no place for him to sit on. Not after the way he just called her a bookworm...twice.

'Yes but I am not the one obsessing over them...'

He was sure this once he had finally won an argument -which was why she was getting pissed and she didn't want him next to her on that sofa-, his arrogant tone spoke of victory and superiority...yet the girl had something to say in the end. 'Aw, does that mean you put the bookcase in here just for me? How thoughtful of you...'

No matter what his response would have been, the girl would never take what she'd just said back or even say she didn't mean it because, surprisingly, she did! Tom never was a man who'd care about someone but he was the sort of person who knew what other people liked and accommodated them for no other reason than to be liked. She figured it had something to do with the time he spent at the orphanage so she never brought it up, in fear she might touch a nerve. But now she was convinced that for once in his life he did something for her out of pure interest and not self oriented.

'Either way; if you thought up a bedroom then that means you planned us staying the night here, so what are you waiting for? Go lounge somewhere!'

"_Lounge"? The dark lord doesn't lounge, stupid girl._

...And then an idea came to mind. A most interesting one, too...

'You haven't thanked me yet...'

He sounded almost contemplative yet he was still standing in front of her, as if his presence alone was some sort of demand; she looked up surprised.

'About the bookcase...or the bed; I trust you find it to your liking though...'

He kept standing rigid and perfectly still in front of her; she realized that he wouldn't leave her alone unless he got what he wanted-a "thank you" in this case. 'Oh...' said she suggestively; her eyes darted to the far end of the room where the huge, almost concealed, bed lay.

By pure instinct, he allowed his eyes to follow hers and when Camellia was sure they were both looking at the same thing, looked back at him, akin to mischievous and demanding an explanation...but he decided to be coy with her, amused yet modest. 'And that cutesy bed over there is for what exactly? To show you my gratitude?'

He scoffed, faking offense by her words but he smirked nonetheless; apparently they both had quite the dirty mind if she actually suggested something like that when they weren't even dating and -given this was 1941- she was definitely ahead of her time. Plus, she could have simply said a "thank you" to him and no big deal; instead though she went for something completely different which surprisingly reflected Tom's own thoughts, too. And that, how she managed to think the same thing as him, was a very big mystery to all four of them as she was nearly as evil as him. Then again she did help him get away with murder...

'I think you percepted my intentions entirely wrong;' said he, holing his hands out in a "I come in peace" gesture 'I would never ask of you something so vulgar...what an improper thing for a lady to suggest.'

He was provocatively staring at her yet spouting non-incriminating words while she was suggestively suggesting she didn't suggest anything, shrugging idly; she went back to her book and made herself comfortable in her sofa. 'My dear, I never said I would respond to such vulgar intentions, I only stated them; it is not a lady's fault she says something improper if she only expresses the wordless wishes of an improper gentleman before her...besides, this room is your doing, no? Why don't _you_ tell me the bed's use?'

She flipped a page; he put the sole stray tuff of his hair behind his ear. 'Very well; I simply thought it'd be relaxing if we just..._ lay there together_ for some time...'

'Uh-huh...' probed Camellia, nodding her head...but never looking up from her book.

'Maybe do that thing you do with my hair that I like and it relaxes me...'

'Uh-huh...'

'Massage my back while you're at it because it really hurts and you do it so well-

'I have many merits.' remarked she, pleasantly but he ignored her.

-so nothing like what you implied.'

Truthfully, this was very close to what she'd implied and they both knew it but it was always fun to mess with her head and her messing with his...

'How did you know what I implied?'

A short laugh escaped him; no wonder he was foolishly waiting for her to decided when she would feel ready to be in a sexual relationship with him –because the romance, even if their relationship wasn't romantic, was there- : she was the sole girl that caught his eye; she was the sole girl who made him want to _touch_ her or even touch _himself_ at the thought of her. Under the safe blanket of darkness, when he'd be alone in his room with no one but his thoughts for company, he would guiltily admit to himself –but never out loud- that she **was** a woman who'd be able to satisfy all his carnal needs; that alone exited him enough to do things he believed he'd never do at the thought of _her_ -rather at the thought of his successful plans-. And now he was just a step closer to realizing all those fantasies he'd have during those long lonely nights...

'What about my thanks?' he insisted, a pout decorating his features.

She finally put her book down beside her open, because she wouldn't want to miss her page, -to which action Ron was distantly reminded of Hermione- and decided to oblige his inquisitive eyes that scanned her continuously throughout his speech. In the end, he was just like a child: petulant, ill-behaved, and self-centred but constantly seeking someone's approval. In this case, hers. She could feel herself give an involuntary smile at the thought...

A tingling sensation -which he was certain that originated from his stomach- spread throughout his body, and he recognised it as satisfaction: she had just given the young dark lord that motherly un-denying smile which he knew it meant... he's won! She'd do anything he asked.

'Go lie down; I'm coming in a bit.'

Camellia used to have plans for this night: after she was finally done with the infirmary –that nurse was really putting her through amazing trouble for one little spell- and Tom showed her what it was that he wanted, then she'd drop by Jenny's who -being a Hufflepuff prefect she could sneak her in and out with ease- had the one room with one bed. But now she didn't care; she much preferred torturing Tom with her innuendo and her coddling -that never really led anywhere thus the torturing sensation- to talking away all night about girl problems. That wasn't to say she didn't like Jenny or talk about girl's problems, she just had a more sadistic streak to herself. Oh well...

Tom needn't telling twice though; after sparing a last grateful glance for the girl accompanied with a smirk, he moved towards the huge bed at the back...while removing a piece of his clothing as he went. The first to go was his favourite green-and-silver striped tie, abandoned on the hand of his sofa; then he elegantly slipped his black, prefect-badged robes off of his toned shoulders, discarding it on the floor uncaringly. He removed his sweater, loosing Camellia from his field of vision but for a brief moment, and –seeing the girl spared no look for him in return as she was persistent on finishing the page of her book before putting it finally down for the night to which Ron was reminded of his wife **again**- he patiently waited for her attention, folding his sweater carefully and setting it on the railing.

'Still haven't gotten your shirt off darling? What's keeping you?'

'What's the hurry?' retorted he, but miraculously made himself busy with his buttons just as soon as she arrived to his side; seeing his obvious play, amused, she rolled her eyes and decided to help him –in other words, oblige him again-.

'Just take it' she grabbed his shirt 'out of your trousers_ first_' she pulled it out forcefully 'and _then_ try to unbutton it.' she finished, dusting him down.

She blushed, something that only struck his already over-inflicted ego more, because neither of them believed she'd ever do something so forward...yet there she was. And their mere proximity would be enough to make her heart skip some beats. Yet she just stood there, not going closer but not removing herself either; she quite liked this sort of feeling: her heart was pounding against her chest and her lips felt swollen.

Tom moved neither, who instead fumbled with his last button as he pretended it kept eluding his fingers, making obvious he was having trouble; she could see where he was going with this one, too but she decided not to accommodate him; she spoiled him enough for one night. 'Done yet?'

He shrugged "helpless" 'It just won't open; mind helping me with it? I suppose it needs a woman's touch...'

From her either side her hands folded in front of her rich chest, making it look richer he noticed –_and juicier_, he thought- and put a finger on her lips thoughtfully. 'Do women really fall for that?'

'Each and every one of them.' he reassured.

...but it was the wrong thing to say.

Her cunning simper fell, and what replaced it, he didn't like: an apathetic stare. Her eyes, surprisingly empty, bore holes into his own; he gulped. 'I guess I'm not a woman then...or nearly as cheesy as the rest you've seduced.' Of course, she'd take it the wrong way! 'But do let me help you.'

Her tone was not one to give hope of reconciliation: she flicked her wand and before he knew it, the shirt was violently ripped off of him by an invisible hand! Not at all how he'd imagined it: he thought she'd at least pry open his shirt and, should he be seductive enough, she'd even help him out of it...but not like this. Then she unceremoniously pushed him on the bed. He fell –for no other reason than to comply with her- and lay, waiting further instructions.

_The twisted, perverted prat_! _What was that little comment supposed to mean_? _Has he done this with more women?_ He just had had to ruin the mood...She felt her temples contract with anger at the thought.

'Turn around' ordered she to try and hide her wounded ego and pride and he gladly obeyed her wish; he knew he shouldn't be opposing her should he still want her to go through with this. She resisted her urges –merely because she didn't want to be responsible for any deaths- and instead she mounted him -putting extra emphasis on supporting all of her weight on his back-. She savagely shoved his head down. 'Even if you run out of breath your head will not be lifted, you hear; if you do it gets chopped off?'

With a 'yes madam red queen.' as his muffled reply admittedly her mood lifted a little, so she decided to stop sulking. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad...

She cracked her knuckles; that was the sign she was about to begin...

How cold her hands were against the warmth of his back! It felt like plunging ice into hot water, but instead of the water evaporating, the hands simply got more familiar with each rub. Yet, it was oddly refreshing, the feel of her gelid fingers against his burning skin; he felt regenerated just by being touched. It was amazing; he felt his bones cracking, yet they were still unharmed; he felt himself being assaulted yet she'd done nothing more than he asked her. His back was sore but at the same time replenished.  
But this pleasurable sensation mixed with the knowledge that it was _her_ body weighing down upon him –now removed from his back as she straddled him, supporting herself on his hips- and it was _her_ hands caressing him everywhere on his bare skin, compelled him to feel oddly giddy...all the while him being unconsciously under the impression she was trying to seduce him! But maybe that had everything to do with the fact she was constantly moving up and down, uuup and dooown and he could _feel_ her thighs rub against his bare or dressed sides; the friction was electrifying.

Euphoric; that was the word he searched for.

She heard him grunting and moaning and sighing with pleasure; she was satisfied with herself. She knew no matter what he might have said before she was the only one who could make him relax like this simply because she was the only one he'd ever allow to see him with his guard down so much. She beamed; deep in his heart somewhere there were so many pent-up childish emotions and experiences he longed to live; all the traumas of his past considered burdening his shoulders –including the self-induced ones such as killing his muggle family-, she was sure it wouldn't be easy to reach that part inside of him but she knew that if she did, all the rough patches of their "friendship" would be more than worth it.

So she restlessly massaged his shoulders, as if that alone would lift that heavy burden, almost visible in her eyes; she tirelessly kneaded his long slender arms to let him know that she was willing to bear anything might have been troubling him, **with** him.

Yet, the only thing that was currently going through Tom Riddle's mind this moment was "we should do this more often"...no, that wasn't entirely true: he knew what she was trying to communicate and he knew that this experience only brought them closer... But he was not willing to accept it, for the sake of his future plans; he shouldn't be allowing her to be so close to him on the first place and he wouldn't have, too if it weren't for her most addictive personality that just made him **do** things. Still, he could just let go and enjoy this because undoubtedly he felt himself get exited or at least satisfied when her bigger-than-she-expected breasts brushed against his back...OK, he was being a pervert but it felt like she did do it on purpose.

* * *

'Are you feeling any better?' she forced herself not to add "dear".

'Uh-huh...' he murmured.

He had almost fallen asleep despite his valiant efforts of staying aware throughout of it all; those blessed yet accursed hands of hers were to blame! How long has it been anyway...?

'Should I stop now...?'

'Mmmm!' was the best denial he could muster with his current awareness –which was very low- as he shook his shoulders lightly to show he still wanted to be fondled and where.

She pursed her lips amused; apart from the fact he was simply adorable at the moment, she also realized that she couldn't hear him and the reason was...the fact he still hadn't raised his head! Just like she'd told him! She shook hers; he was truly adorable.

After she dismounted him –hopefully that would make him raise his head- the first thing she did was to hurry and find his robes. Sooner or later he'd get cold and she didn't want him _catching_ a cold, too because the few candles spread here and there were too weak of a source for warmth. Yet, when her absence sank in, he grunted in displeasure; he wanted her back on top of him so he could feel her heat, her touch against his skin. He relished her motherly nature -mixed with a little bit of skin- that he undoubtedly enjoyed now and he was surprisingly grateful for it: he had never known a mother's affection but if he had, he was under the impression it would resemble this sort of thing and it wasn't so bad in the end. After all, mothers loved their children no matter how the latter turned out and even if they didn't love them back.

She giggled; he was so needy all the time...! As she covered him with the robes she climbed next to him, and, careful not to jerk him awake, placed him in her lap; without much thought, almost out of habit, her hand flew to his head, petting him idly. His thick and surprisingly rough to the touch compared to its silky look mane was short -for now but she was trying to convince him to grow them out- but a true mane, especially if you bumped into him while they were unkempt. Suddenly an image flashed: Tom had bed hair yet he was standing perfectly still in the middle of a classroom while everyone was looking at it, scrutinizing; she sniggered at the thought.

'Mm-mm, what is it?'

Her rhythmical movements were his lullaby; the softness of her legs his pillow; her familiar scent was incense... He felt his eyelids grow heavy. But then he heard her stifled laughter and it caught his attention. He could see her trying to stop and shake her head in a "nothing's wrong" fashion even with his eyes closed.

'Nothing...say Tom do you think people are meant to die alone?' She had no idea where this question came from but it was a question she'd been dying to ask for a while specifically because he always felt out of touch...

'...dunno about dying but they certainly live that way...'

'Oh-...oh, I see...'

.

.

.

He was fully awake now; had she just asked him such a question and had he just answered her with such an honest respond? What. The hell was he thinking! He turned around, the disappointment in her murmur leeching on his brain, and for some reason he only wanted to turn her stupid frown into a smile; maybe it was the fact her abrupt sadness didn't match this scene at all; maybe it was the fact he didn't feel comfortable being the only one in her presence when she looked like she needed someone to comfort her, he was horrible at that. But he didn't allow himself to be troubled by the reason for long this once and he only tried to make amends.

'I didn't mean anything about y-...'

'Of course you did; you still feel you are all alone, just like the first time you came here six years ago...but why?'

Her hands never stopped petting his always well-groomed hair yet it felt all the more otherworldly to him just because of it; he saw she was admitting defeat by doing that...but to whom-or what?

He didn't manage to ask; he didn't even get to sit up and look at her properly; she only turned away, feeling truly beaten by no one else than Tom's atomistic way of thinking. He might have been her friend for so long and even shared some of his most intimate thoughts with her but he kept believing he was alone in this world; as his best friend and the person she was she felt utterly defeated yet at the same time incompetent: it was no one else's fault than hers that he still felt this way.

'I'm sorry I let you down; I'll get better. And then you won't have to be alone anymore.'

She croaked and he saw a silent tear ran down her cheek. He felt...responsible. Not sad but responsible. But she had just said it was her fault and not his...maybe that was it! She was always right after all so she must have been right now, too. Then it was her fault he was still this way: he had tried to change as a child but he never knew how yet as soon as he came to Hogwarts she had been the source of the very dim light he still had inside of him, his...ethical compass of sorts and boundaries. He knew what he could do and divulge to her before it became too much and it was the same for her, as well but how it was that even if he'd spent so much time around her he never had been too influenced? Sure, she did influence him a little but not as much as she or her precious little Dumbledore would have wanted so he'd be a "normal" person!

Even if his own defences were very high, then how come these six years she hadn't left a big impact on his life, why was he still the same mean, evil even person? And why was it that he hated the thought of himself being normal just as much as he hated the thought that he actually blamed her for not turning him into a ridiculous lap dog that only thought happy thoughts and good things? He still felt empty inside when he was alone with no one else but himself, away from his thoughts...But why did he feel uncomfortable in his own skin?

She **was** right, it was all her fault! He glaringly ignored the fact she was not privy to the whole truth-she should have tried to find out and she should try harder in the future if she really wants to turn him! Either he wants to or not it doesn't matter; if she always did what she wanted then did this mean she didn't really care for him after all? Did he simply require more time? And what would his end be...? But he didn't want to change anyway! Why would she try to do that to him? Shouldn't she like him just the way he is-isn't that what she always told him she believed in? She shouldn't go back on her beliefs now, she should leave him alone!  
He didn't know what it was but he knew whatever this case was about, it was _her_ fault; **he** was innocent. **He** had nothing to do with it and everything was her responsibility-either he changed or not it would all be _her_ doing, _her_ mistake! He felt the anger rise inside him at the very thought!

Yet, when he spared another look in her direction he felt pity; not all people can they be as perfect as him. It was only natural she would fail at some things. She was only a mere mudblood after all; how much could he expect from her really...? He looked back at her again, watching the tear stream. He felt uncomfortable at the sight and it was high bloody time to do something about it: he reached out to her, cupping her wet cheek and he wiped away the tears.

She felt so ashamed...yet so relieved at the same time. How could she be so shameless in front of Tom who only tried to be nice to her through his own selfish way...? She wondered to herself and she cringed at his touch. Yet she rubbed her cheek against his hand that its finger already idly caressed and its comfort rushed through her like hot water; she finally mustered the nerve to face him. Her misty eyes met his; their disarming benevolence surprised her: she was certain, in all his life this was the first time he gazed upon anyone in such a kind manner. Well, he always did say he was a merciful lord...

_The fault may be yours but_ 'it's alright Camellia,' _you don't know any better_; 'so don't cry.'

He performed the single act of kindness he ever could, without asking something in return just this once.

He forgave her.

* * *

**A/N**: Hum...I think this chapter got a bit "heavy" in the end. Dunno what it is about feelings and this man but he just seems he will never be able to understand them, even if they are his own, he's so single-minded. I hope this is what you think, too -I can definitely see a confused and angry teenage Tom blaming everyone but himself for the mess he is- so leave a review to tell me what you thought...! Or message. Or both! :3


	24. Invitation and hesitation

**A/N**: Well, this is a fast update...and it was supposed to be faster! Nope, nothing's gotten into me and I'm feeling perfectly alright but you see...I had these chapters ready for a long time on paper. Of course it took many corrections to reach something I liked -and that is because I realized my style is changing by the moment - but now I'm finally ready with almost two more chapters. Oh dear!

=:=:=

Now I fear I may be misleading you with all these "happy" Hogwarts memories sort of thing, so lemme tell you this is **not** a story which will end in a happy way, no matter how "lovely" the dark lord looks in the "prelude" of their real relationship. Nope, not at all. It is about a girl who fell in love with the darkest wizard of all times -in Harry Potter standards- and that said dark lord took a **very wicked** interest in. That can't end well no matter how you look at it as I was in no mood to write an AU or even an alternative ending. Nope, because that's just how much of a sadist I am and I enjoy watching my original characters suffer, die, get mentally tortured, physically tortured and stuff. I do enjoy **some** happy endings for them but only when I see it plausible and like I said since I didn't want to make this an AU this was not the case. So please enjoy seeing Camellia and to a certain extent her friends and acquaintances suffer. Muaw ha ha ha ha...! Ahem, I mean go on about their everyday lives and stuff and that was under no circumstances an evil laugh. Right... :3

=:=:=

I hope you enjoy this chapter and...you gotta love the Malfoys! I know I love their self-interested asses that only care about them and their family; no seriously, their family bonding is astounding. Oh, from now on the Italics are not only thoughts but also thoughts of the past...and I know that doesn't make much sense so let's just say they are memories within the memories! ^^

* * *

He forgave her.

There was nothing else he could do; he knew the moment he saw her crying, that concealed and modest way she did, combined with the fact she barely cried at all -setting her apart from those girls who cried about everything and anything to get themselves out of a spot or to have their way- he couldn't do otherwise. It was very foreign a concept to him, to know he felt the need to see the certain someone smile, but he came to terms with it the first time he'd seen her cry; why did the few times she cry, she did because of him? Did that mean something? And if it didn't then why did he feel responsible and at the same time...**smug** that that was the case?

He knew not why but he was compelled to look at her; the way she leaned into his hand as he -unknowingly to him till ten seconds ago- idly stroke her cheek, made him want to keep doing it. As she shuddered under his caress he only wanted to see her shake more, helpless and surrendered to him. He felt powerful when he had people under his thumb but he never thought it would apply to literal cases as well. But it did and he felt he had absolute control over her in this precise moment...

.

.

Her voice was caught in her throat; she didn't want to speak lest it comes out raw and betray her emotional turmoil. She felt so many things inside her for this man, for their situation and all she could think about was that summer day. Her mind kept wandering back to that evening with each of his gentle touches.

_His lips rose to meet hers, while his hands claimed her possessively; before she could understand what was happening around her, _to_ her, Tom was suddenly on top, pushing her down with his weight, ensuring their bodies were in constant contact. Her own hands had reached out in an effort to keep some semblance of control; originally she meant to keep him away, but it turned out it only brought him closer. She didn't know why, but she liked it; she didn't realize when it was she started snogging him back -when she finally registered that was what he was doing to her- but she could tell she was doing it damn well; his moans betrayed as much while her own couldn't be suppressed no matter how hard she tried._

_She enjoyed hearing him grunt because of her; she savoured the thought to know she was making him weak, that she could do whatever she wanted. As his tongue entered her mouth, it felt so natural; she didn't resist, she allowed him to do whatever he wanted for no other reason that whatever it was that he desired of her, she knew she could give it, she wasn't lacking anything. Her own tongue danced with his, blissfully unaware of what her brain knew: he was a murderer. The only thing that mattered for this moment was that his hands were doing something amazing to her, something that made her arch her back to meet him, to touch him more._

_There was no space between them; she would have it no other way. She was always uncomfortable with proximity -even if she did all in her power to hide it- but it felt so bloody good. She understood this was carnal desire, nothing more than lust, but she didn't mind, she didn't even care; there was a fire burning inside her, down between her thighs, that she only wanted to quench the soonest possible... He must have been feeling the same way or he was caring his wand with him because something poked her...but she was pretty sure he didn't carry it before, so she could bet everything on the former._

_Her legs, firmly clasping his waist, pressuring his length against her teasingly, felt feverish against his cold hands that now chose to palpate the certain area of her body. She only wanted to be there for him, to let him know she accepted him and if that was the way to go about it, she could handle it. Hell, she could live with it just fine! The more he pressed, the more she felt her own desire rise; he wasn't doing anything else than kissing her and holding her yet she was already prepared to give herself to him, if that was what he needed._

_...no; he needed boundaries; he needed limits. She didn't know what was going through his mind as he held her close and felt her heart beat against his own but rewarding a man who just killed three people was definitely not how you let them know they did something wrong. This should stop! And what kind of person was she? Kiss someone who killed three people? Right after he told her! No, was she crazy? No!_

_But that look on his face when she unwrapped herself and ran away haunted her every thought; was he being serious with her? What if she was just a distraction from his real problems? She had to make sure he realized how wrong he was and that she was not his guilt-free card, he should face his problems on his own before they faced them together. Besides, he was a man who feared intimacy and relationships -he did have huge commitment issues- thus she had to make sure this wasn't a one-time thing, she had to make sure he wanted her and will want her all the time..._

_But then she realized: if she was afraid he didn't want anything steady with her then _she_ wanted that; when he was so effortlessly fondling her, she realized his hands were where she was supposed to be just as her embrace was his true home; she was the only one who truly understood him. She loved him._

And now she could finally admit it to herself; this being the first time he was gentle to her in his whole life, she knew he made her heart skip many beats just for doing something so simple as wiping her tears away... 'Tom...'

'Hn?'

_I love you_. 'I um...that.'

.

He was her best friend, he knew what she was thinking any given time...And then there were these times: she would spout some gibberish which made no sense whatsoever and think he knew what the bloody hell she was talking about just because he was her friend.

But he didn't. He had absolutely no idea. 'What?'

She gave a small smile, not sad, but amused. '...in time, you'll understand.'

But it left the three out of four onlookers just as baffled as Tom -who was still asking her _what the bloody hell does that even mean_? humorously- while they surfaced to now...

=:=:=

'Having fun children?'

The three were already used to their former headmaster's always amiable voice, so they merely looked back with a smile on their faces, nodding vividly; Ginny jumped out of her skin though not quite believing who was talking to her. 'Professor Dumbledore!' exclaimed she as she finally saw the voice was coming from the painting and not some scary ghost -to which she could finally feel her heart beating normally again-.

'Yes, loads; d'you know that Tom had an unfathomable inclination of sharing everything he found with Camellia?'

'Um...Ron, don't you think him telling her about the Chamber of Secrets was way more important and indicative of their relationship than showing her the Room of Requirement?'

His wife had amazing observation skills that annoyed the shit out of him; really, why did she always do that?

'Well, the question still stands.'

'That it definitely does; well, I had a sneaky suspicion in my time that he was that sort of person but I never really caught them in the act. And when professor McGonagall read to me this chapter then I knew why I never did; they were always cooped up in there-or later on his Head boy dormitories I guess...'

'Um, why didn't Camellia become a Head girl, too professor?'

It was Ginny who asked naturally, all the rest had already received an answer to that question but none complained; they knew she didn't know and besides, had Ginny seen half the memories they did, she'd know her grades and overall behaviour would never make her so.

'Well, she wasn't what one would call a diligent student or well-behaved in class for that matter; and then it was the issue with Tom. I would never allow her to remain for more than a day to the same room as him; by the time I had realized what was happening, the more I feared for her.'

That gave Hermione a jolt of memory; she'd been intending to ask this for a long time... 'I've been meaning to ask you sir' said she immediately to her credit, cutting off Ginny who was about to ask something to the painting herself 'why **did** you encourage her at going after Tom? Weren't you afraid something might happen to her or even your plan backfiring and her turning into a cold or even ruthless person?'

That was a fairly decent question...all sorts of thoughts invaded their minds as to the answer of that, the longer the former headmaster remained silent; he even looked a little ill too. They thought there was absolutely no practical way for that girl to grow cold, not with that sort of attitude, but then it came to their minds how easily Dumbledore "sacrificed" individuals for the sake of the "greater good" as he did with Harry, Snape, even himself. So it was a small price to pay to turn Camellia into a murderer or a person like Malfoy if the dark lord got influenced even in the least huh...?

He gave a wry yet sad smile to the lot of them 'I know what you're thinking. Yes, I used her but...I did love that girl, as much as I loved Harry and all of you! But yes, sometimes I think sacrifices must be made. I never thought it would be anything too terrible until Myrtle died. Then I was truly scared for her-not her health but her...mentality. And what Tom might do to her. But then, every time I saw her she was almost the same-and I say almost because more or less everyone becomes a little influenced by the persons they associate. But the good thing was I guess she had other friends, too who gave her normalcy and limits in her life. Still, I always worried about her, especially after they left Hogwarts.'

Another jolt of memory 'is that why you kept tabs on her? Prof-...headmistress McGonagall said so when we first came to her...'

The old man in the painting he waved a hand dismissively 'Why yes, misses Granger; I was both worried and curious on both their progress...'

Harry caught that though; '_Both their_ progress-they lived together!'

Ron turned to the headmaster in the same owlishly wide-eyed way, amazed at what his friend had said and even more so when he realized it was supported by his former headmaster's claims. 'They did!'

The girls smiled cunningly in between them, being the ones who knew the truth; when they giggled and attracted their husbands' attention they glared at them; as if it wasn't enough that Hermione knew the truth now Ginny did, too and they were equal -opposed to before when Hermione was outnumbered and at least they savoured _that _thought-. And it wasn't enough they could imagine them giggling and nodding now they heard it, too!

'O-ho-ho; I shall say nothing.' the man played along with the girls 'Why don't you wait and see? Go on, on to the next memory!'

The two young men pouted; did they really have to do that and torture them because they didn't read the damn book? Neither did Ginny but Hermione told her what was happening! Tch, what a conspiracy!

'Fine, let's just go to the next one; the sooner the better.'

'Yeap! And d'you know what these next memories are...? It's the Christmas ball!' the boys were left a little agape 'ain't it brilliant!'

'Why a Christmas ball _now_? What about the rest of the years?'

'Well, you'll just have to wait; I mean, honestly, what do you think, it won't say? Just be patient...' Ginny snapped this once falling right in cue; of course she knew why, she knew everything and it felt so good rubbing it in into their faces.

She gave another conspirator's wink at Hermione, who returned it rather entertained; it was good to have another woman with her after all, didn't know how she lived without one all this time.

'Let's just **go**...'

.

.

.

Tom and Camellia were walking to the great hall, conversing distractedly until the dark lord was peering at her in a very astonished fashion.

'You'll be actually attending the _Christmas. Βall_?'

From the evident surprise in his voice the four immediately realized this was not a frequent occurrence for the young lady in front of them; and the way she beamed at him while she swelled up like a peacock, full of pride and joy, their suspicions were more than confirmed. So that was why the Christmas ball was such a big deal after all.

'...yes; for once in my life I won't be home _**or**_ in detention!'

To hear that coming from a girl's mouth it was funny more than anything. Not even Ron's twin brothers did they have it as bad as her those days...

'That is...amazing!' there was no other word for it, not in his mind. 'Whom are you going to go with?'

'Hector.'

He choked on his water as she merely deadpanned; she gave him a look full of -faux- curiosity at his exaggerated reaction. His question was phrased as such so that the girl would reply "no one yet" so he could ask her thus when his perfect plan backfired on him he was left shocked. And how come he wasn't the first one to know of her going to the ball -if someone else had already asked her- and if he wasn't the first then was he the last? And it just had to be _him_. 'Hector as in the _sole_ Gryffindor who is desperately trying to make a pass on you Hector?' he resisted to shout at her "the man who snogged you before I did" since that's what really appalled him for no other reason than he _knew_ he wasn't supposed to know.

'Why yes!'

His eyes widened at her casualness even more, his pure astonishment evident not just in his voice but in his whole demeanour. 'Why the bloody hell did you accept to go with him?' he resisted another urge, the urge to grab her from the collar of her shirt and shake the truth out of her; she either was up to something or she was accepting Hector's advances. Neither of which possibilities appeared to be in his favour.

'Well...' she moved a little forward, losing him from her side on purpose 'I'd no idea if I'd manage to get a date and he was willing to take me...'

He scoffed 'Had you told me you'd be going I'd have asked you to come with me because I have no intention of-...Camellia, are you even listening to me!' apparently she wasn't because not only did she ignore him but she also kept staring at something else. 'What the blazes are you looking at?'

'...her.' replied she, and pointed all too discreetly to the subject of her undivided attention: the familiar back of a blond girl...Patricia. Of course Patricia would frequently glance towards their direction –as they stood but mere metres apart- but Tom had put all of his effort into **not** making eye-contact with her. 'She's been looking here all this while; you don't have a date for this event yet do you?'

His eye twitched much easier these days, because now it felt like he was winking out of frustration and anger; well of course he didn't have a date, hadn't he almost just said that by implying he could take her? 'Naturally; I wouldn't have asked you otherwise. I mean, why didn't you just-...Camellia? Camellia what the _blazes are you doing-get back here right now_!'

But his protests fell on deaf ears as the bane of his existence had already made the small distance and stood fully in front of the surprised, almost scared in all honesty -it was quite unnerving the girl that was rumoured to be dating the man you were hitting on to just come up to you without any warming- girl and she tried to strike up a conversation.

By the time he had gotten there Camellia was already talking, after she curtly had nodded a "hi" to the rest of Patricia's friends. 'So do you have a date for the Christmas ball Patricia?'

Patricia glanced at Tom who had just arrived, feeling either anxious or interrogated. The fact he was directly behind Camellia –and he looked as if he was _daring_ her to answer, like he'd prevented her from doing something bad to Camellia that only the two of them knew- didn't help her mood. 'This is...kind of sudden.' she admitted, still kind of scared. 'Why d'you ask?' she had refused to look at her girlfriends for support -that were all staring between the three more interested in how this would end rather than supporting their friend anyway- and continued staring Camellia in the eyes; after all, she was the one that had just came here and started annoying her, _she_ should feel like she had something to apologize to her.

'Answer me and I'll tell you.'

She was being curt and although friendly there was something very businesslike with her tone that Patricia didn't appreciate...even if it made Tom look at her in a new light.  
Still, Patricia blushed; she didn't know why but she had a good feeling about this encounter -she had it all morning, actually- so she decided to be honest...

'Um, no; I don't have a date...yet!' added she, a little ashamed.

It was a rare occurrence for her but since she'd gone out with Tom only a little while ago everyone had immediately thought she was inapproachable as he would be most probably taking her to the ball, too...only he never asked. And he had never really contacted her ever since that dreadful date -for which said date's failure she shamelessly blamed Camellia- as he only talked to her a couple of times in the corridors.

But Camellia beamed at her; that sort of threw Patricia off track but she waited to hear what she wanted to say-the glares Tom was sending her behind her back didn't off-put her. She knew when Camellia spoke he'd always listen. For once she appreciated the special bond these two shared. 'Then this is your luck day! Tom has yet to decide on a date himself; will you go to the ball with him?'

* * *

That she certainly did not expect; he could see Patricia was thoroughly amazed by Cam's suggestion -as her chin hang mid air- but he could not say the same for himself he knew what she was about to do the moment she locked on Patricia. 'R-really? He wants to go with me?' she sounded as pleasantly surprised as incredulous; he'd made it crystal clear he wished nothing to do with the girl in the romantic department when he continuously rejected –politely of course- all of her attempts at a second date. Could it be that the hope in her heart was rekindled with this action of his?

'Of course he does; can't you see how happy he is' she continued, the same smile playing on her lips; without turning back she nudged him on the ribcage '-_look happy Tom_.' ordered she in a hushed whisper; couldn't he see she had a devious and ingenious plan already in motion-how dense could that pretty head of his be not to understand after so many years as her friend?

He forced himself to smile under her strict order -yet somehow he made it appear natural- but looked away from Patricia because he didn't want to betray the fact he was compelled to do it. 'See? He's just a little bewildered due to recent developments; so what say you?'

The girl felt like she had hit the jackpot! She couldn't believe he was asking her to the ball after all-oh and the tradition they had of posting all the photos of the night, she'd look amazing! And of course they were immediately the favourite of taking the title of the best couple's picture! '...yes! I-I don't mind...'

'Great then; it's a date! What about eight o clock outside the Hufflepuff dormitory?'

'Alright!'

Patricia obviously failed to realize it was Camellia who was arranging the date and that Tom looked everything but willing; she must have been too preoccupied with thinking how happy she was that her wish had come true and she got a second chance at this with Tom, should she play her cards right this once!

'Splendid; he'll see you then!'

Just as abruptly as she'd dragged him there, just as abruptly she whisked him away; she turned about, hauled him as she went about her business briskly and when she made sure she was far away from prying eyes, she turned to him, beaming. 'See? No harm done-I got you a date!'

He wanted to slap her-maybe if he did she'd drop that huge toothless smile that got to his nerves; he was so angry, his voice was a dark low snarl. 'I never said I couldn't find myself a date, I only said you should have told **me** _first_ that you'd be going to the ball so that we could go together; I am in no mood to take a girl who wants to go out with me-and definitely not her!'

'Tomato, tomato...' he hated it when she did that 'don't be sour. Now we both have dates.'

'Of course that wouldn't be an issue if only-!'

'How was I to know you haven't found a date already? Usually you have a date to this thing two weeks prior to the occasion...'

He pouted; the absurdity of it all was that her argument did make sense in the end! He didn't know what she playing at and quite frankly he didn't know if he should be thrilled or mortified to find out...as Camellia's "schemes" were either too good or too bad, he'd find out the hard way. Yet, he wasn't just ready to give up 'but you could have taken someone else...'

'Well I could but I figured Michael would think I wanted to date him so...'

Fuck; he hadn't thought of that. Suddenly Hector sounded as a good solution to keep that stupid pureblood away from her...yet just the _thought he kissed her __**first**_ -before him- drove him insane. She had something to say about anything though hadn't she?

'Anyway...' she drawled on purpose, to prolong his irritation 'I'll be going now; I have to meet up with Jules.'

'Of course you have.'

She pretended he never made that comment and waved goodbye. 'Don't forget Tom; eight o'clock in front of the Hufflepuff dormitory on Saturday...'

'Bye!' he barked and his farewell sounded more like a swear rather than a salute.

She chuckled; she really tuned him up well this once...

.

.

_**Miles away and miles away in a certain building in Britain...**_

Draco Malfoy was sitting on the black leather sofa of the living room; his head rested in his hands, trying to both hide and communicate his real frustration and indignation. He was getting nowhere with this. He's been visiting his great aunt for more than once every three hours ever since he received that letter yesterday, but he never really dared to talk to her about it. Every single time he tried to bring the subject up, he would always falter in the end, voice caught in his throat or too raw not to worry her, he always decided it'd be better if he just came back and told her then.

For two days.

And he hadn't even seen his mother and wife all that much since then just because of this task he undertook all by himself. Sure they were around but Draco and Astoria lived elsewhere so it was only natural she'd return there for the night...his mother he meticulously stayed away from on his own accord. Mostly because he wouldn't stand to see that look in her eyes: the look that she knew something was wrong, she knew he and his father knew _what_ was wrong yet she also knew they wouldn't tell her. And that curious "innocent" look would always hurt his feelings because he really couldn't divulge anything.

But if his mother knew, then so did his aunt; he had seen the letter from Hogwarts addressed to his aunt lying there on her night stand at the right side of her bed and besides, she was ten times more intuitive than any other person he knew. So she certainly sensed there was something troubling the young man, something he wanted to tell her -he was bloody certain she even had already guessed that whatever he wanted to tell her had everything to do with that letter-. But she kept quiet about his obvious disconcert and simply smiled at his each visit, much more frequent than his weekly visit, and listened carefully and patiently to whatever he told her.

She knew he would come forward in his own time so she waited; she always was a woman who bid her time wisely, waiting for people to go to her rather than pressuring them when they were uncertain. But she also knew that sometimes people only needed an urge, a small nudge to say what they truly wanted. And that was what she decided to do with her great nephew, Draco, whom she spoiled even more than her nephew Lucius.

.

.

'Ah, there you are; I've been looking all over for you my dear.'

He looked up immediately, a mixture of surprise and shame -or guilt- plastered on his face as the voice of his great aunt, the very subject of his troubles, emerged from somewhere near him; he hurried to look casual though, as he took a usual stance for him on the couch, crossing his legs idly and stretching his arms on the sofa behind him.

He regarded the old woman inquisitively but caringly; her long hair had long lost their colour, having an almost silver-shaded grey now instead. Even her skin seemed a little duller in colour but old age did nothing too bad to the woman: even in the age of seventy seven she still remained cheerful, vibrant and even held a great semblance at the way she was forty years ago. The lines were there but they looked like medals, concerning the hardships in her life, and they were nearly as bad as other women of her age. But her eyes remained that beautiful, vivid green he'd seen in pictures of long ago, when she was still a young woman with his grandfather.

She was holding a trey with an arrangement for tea and some biscuits. He thanked his aunt's thoughtfulness as he heard his stomach growl in complaint for being left empty since that moment he received that letter.

'Been looking? Nonsense, you shouldn't have left your room for me; I can see you are tired.'

In truth, she looked everything but; she was smiling, there were no dark circles under her eyes and she even looked replenished. But he hoped she would not nitpick on that and carry on. 'Oh well, tired or not, what is there left for a woman like me to do if not tea? You looked so troubled yesterday I just knew I had to make you something to relax. So I brought you tea which I brew all by myself. Have a cup.' said the old woman kindly as she settled next to him on the sofa. With slow movements she filled the cups, one for her and one for him, giving the first one to Draco. She then took the biscuits and put them on the table next to his cup, discreetly suggesting he should eat.

He took it and drank eagerly; that tea was truly amazing! He felt so much calmer and regenerated just with one sip! The warmth of his aunt's attentions seemed to have transferred into the liquid and rushed through him pleasantly.

'...alright, I'll tell you now.'

Where had that come from? He had no idea but as soon as he drank he wished to spill his guts out to her immediately; maybe it had to do with the relaxation he felt that inclined him to get a better look at things: as if the fog lifted from the matter of "how to tell aunt" he suddenly knew how to approach it without hurting her or deluding her. But that was odd... 'Aunt Nausicaa did you put veritaserum in this?'

His question was so abrupt yet expected from the woman she actually gave a small but polite little laugh as her smile receded. 'Of course not my darling boy, I'd never do that; but where in earth is your father? I saw him distressed, too-been all day yesterday and today so maybe he should drink some of this, too. Oh, I put some calming draught in this, not to worry yourself over it.'

'Well it does make sense. So...about what I wanted to tell you-wait, did you say father looked distressed? You mean you saw him?'

The woman gave another polite laugh as she waved her hand. 'Draco sweetie ever since the second time you came to my room he has been doing the same thing; he only visited just right after you left. Discreet man your father is, no?'

He should have known; his father kept tabs on everyone and everything that went on in his house **and** this was his favourite aunt, too-it was only natural he would try to make sure she was alright no matter what he might have said. He shook his head at his own naivety but he enjoyed the fact he was _pleasantly_ surprised by one of his father's actions. 'Yes, he is. Would he happen to tell you what I wanted with you?'

'No; he doesn't pry into other people's duties. So what was it?'

He put his cup down finally, after drinking almost all of it; it was really delicious and it was so calming he needed to drink it if he wanted to say this. He cleared his throat. 'I know how much you loved grandpa Abraxas aunt but I have to tell you: he did something horrible to a girl. He and Voldemort did something terrible to a mud-muggleborn girl a long time ago.'

She blinked, a little surprised; now that was not the most difficult thing to be said in this family, as sad as that sounded -regrettably-, and it certainly wasn't news to either of them. 'Draco I hardly believe this worths this whole introduction. I'm afraid to say that, as much as I loved my brother, he and Tom did horrible things to muggleborns, girls or boys. And as much as it pains me to admit it I never really did anything to stop it, other than endlessly complaining about it.'

He darkened significantly; oh how would he tell her? 'I know but-...this is far worse than just a murder or a torture. Evidence have been found that these two, with the silent agreement of many people, did a horrible thing to a girl; the evidence have been found in Hogwarts which is why we are all summoned to go there the day after tomorrow. And given you are the sole family member alive since grandfather's era...'

'I understand; they need me to testify for his actions.'

She looked at him longer and smiled; she brushed his hair behind with her hand, putting her fingers through the surprisingly dry and gel-free hair of her great nephew. He was so sweet and innocent as he smiled back finally with a burden off his chest; she could see there was something else, much more important than what he had let on, happening with that girl but she realized there was no need to make him uncomfortable. She would see what this was all about when she got to Hogwarts.

'You finally spoke to your aunt then?'

This was the second time Draco had been surprised so; this once his father was the one who demanded his attention, looking formal and tall under the threshold. Always proud, his back straight and his chest out, he was looking down to both, holding his cane and his nose high. The man almost glowered at his son in an accusation for his indecisiveness but his voice held a more neutral tone.

'Y-yes father.' The younger man admitted, a little bit of pink tinging his cheeks as he bowed his head.

Nausicaa gave her nephew, the one at the door, a very reprimanding frown; she knew it would discourage him from further scolding his son even if he would deny looking anything like it. 'Lucius my dear, why don't you have a cup of tea with us? I am certain it will calm you, too...'

He raised an eyebrow questioningly at the sight of the teapot and the trey but sat himself down, too; he was truly wondering on her motives right about now but he decided when his aunt was involved he would never really comprehend anything else other than she loved her family and she'd do anything to see it united.

She poured him some and with undeniable grace he sipped a little. 'I must admit, knowing you make such good potions to mix with tea and still keep them affective when father always said how you always have had trouble with it, it seems surreal.'

'Ha ha; my darling boy, you must understand that my years of experience outdo my original awkwardness.'

'That I can understand...' there was an unnatural silence as he sipped again 'so what do you think aunt? Will you accept to accompany us?'

'Of course my boy; I am needed as I read in the letter they sent me so I shall attend.'

'That is good to hear...'

Another short silence, but it was much less tense than the previous one.

'Will you please leave us alone Draco?' she finally asked; there was nothing but benevolence and care in her voice...but her warm smile suggested she wouldn't take no for an answer.

And she wouldn't. Draco eagerly nodded, wanting nothing more than to leave them alone. No matter what, the generation gap between his father and his aunt was much smaller than him and his aunt; besides, she was like a mother to Lucius, as she was the same age as Abraxas, so they got along much better than one would think.

His aunt, Nausicaa Malfoy, had none other than Lucius and his family; she had no children of her own and she also had an "unfortunate" marriage, as people would tell Draco. The marriage didn't fail because either of them left but because her husband died before he could give her at least one child. And she sincerely loved him so much she never considered marrying anyone else, ever again and instead she devoted herself to her brother's family. So she'd practically raised Lucius and there were more than one occasion that Draco remembered -either recounted by his aunt herself or his father- that aunt Nausicaa had defended or physically protected his father as a young boy with/from magic when grandfather or grandmother wouldn't for any sort of reason.

These two had a special bond and he felt the need to leave them alone. So he did.

* * *

'Now why don't you tell me what Draco failed to mention? What part of this story is truly pertinent to me?'

'...that I cannot say I'm afraid; somehow it will all be revealed to you one way or another when we do get to Hogwarts.'

'...why have you been so cold to me since yesterday? Does it have anything to do with what your letter said? If so then I can only assume that a)' she bolted her statement with a finger 'your letter was different or more enriched than mine and b)' she raised the second finger to count her points 'that girl that was somehow abused by your father and Tom had something to do with me...' Lucius recoiled away from her as if she'd struck him; and then she knew she was right on both accounts. 'Was she a friend of mine?'

He knew she could handle the answer and she had even braced herself for a "yes" but...the truth was much more disturbing than that. So he chose to say something much more diplomatic, putting his skills in good use. 'She was much more than that; you two had a special bonding...before _that_ of course.'

She nodded; she knew she wouldn't like the answer yet she asked anyway. She felt she couldn't be left in the dark. She wanted to know what was so important all of the sudden that they called the three Malfoys over to the school for witchcraft and wizardry so unceremoniously.

A school that she spent seven years of her life inside, learning how to use magic and how to stand when you duel; reading books on things she never thought she'd know; a school that introduced her to so many possibilities in her youth that she felt all the more empty she never made anything out of herself despite her very high scores to all of her classes; a school that while she attended she'd met her brother's wife, Cassiopeia.

A school that, even to this day, she failed to remember.

* * *

**A/N**: Now now now, don't hate me! This really isn't a cliffhanger, not at the very little bit... :3 Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter -it was so unexpectedely conceived in my mind I didn't even have to turn it over in my head too much, it just happened! Did you like it? What did you think? Yes, the memory with Cam and Tom was short but honestly now, that's all I ever write, I needed something else, too...! And you will be compensated in the next chapter, that's for sure!

Please review or/and message!


	25. The Christmas Ball

**A/N**: It feels weird I'm updating so fast...Anyway; remember where we'd left off with Tom and Cam? We'll take it from there! And yay, Christmas ball! Some time off...even if it is the wrong season! XD

And huge chapter up ahead, you're warned!

* * *

'Bye!' barked Tom furious.

She chuckled to herself after hearing his curt and angered salute; she really tuned him up well this once! At least she had a plan...

.

.

Tom watched her going on her way...and they noticed he was intently staring at nothing but her moving hips and her arse. The two boys were distantly reminded of themselves.

But slowly, the girl's hips became blurry as her overall figure contracted or stretched with the rest of her surroundings; when the images stopped contorting, they noticed the setting was completely different: instead of the hall they were previously standing, they could see the gates of the Hufflepuff dormitory. And only then did they realize that what came into focus no longer was Camellia's plump-ish figure but another's: the tall beautiful Patricia stood in her place, proud and brimming with happiness.

She was clad in golden robes trimmed with a darker glossy thread at the hem; they were hugging her body -just enough not to be provocative- while her blond curls almost matched the colour of her robes, longer than ever, decorating her shoulders as bangs; the rest were caught up in an elegant bun. Her eyes were shining blue with expectation or excitement-they couldn't tell exactly, but they could tell she was radiant and she'd put every ounce of her being into looking amazing.

And she certainly did. Patricia looked better than many of the girls of their own time even, Harry and Ron thought as they watched her -their eyes travelling from head to toe-; even if she wasn't a veela, they still couldn't tear their sights away from her...and their wives noticed.

So when the time came for Tom to make his own appearance -as they eventually looked where Patricia was staring at so fondly as she muttered "Tom" breathlessly- the girls got their revenge: if Patricia looked fabulous, Tom looked gorgeous! The fact he might have been one of the best-looking men to ever walk the halls of this school was certainly a factor as he looked beautiful on daily basis but now, as he stood there in all of his almost-adult glory, clad in his black and grey dress robes he was absolutely breath-taking. His hair groomed as never before, complimenting his facial characteristics, while his eyes were piercing, shining in the dim light.  
So when the wives started giggling and talking between themselves feverishly upon seeing him, they felt deriving great satisfaction at their husbands' glares that were only previously too busy gawking at the tall blond to notice them.

This must have been almost a week later, in time for the day of the ball.

'Patricia dear you look smashing tonight!' he admitted his true sentiments at her sight as soon as he reached her, offering an arm; his own eyes were travelling up and down his date greedily. _It might be a good idea to go with Patricia to the ball tonight after all_...he thought satisfied as he still looked her over appraisingly.

She giggled as she snaked her arm around his just as graciously as she walked the small distance he'd left, and tried to look even more adorable. 'Thank you; you look amazing yourself. In fact, you look more than that; I believe we shall win the "most beautiful couple of the night" award.'

She wasn't feigning modesty in the least as she spoke her thoughts openly yet it satisfied him all the more, he realized as they made their way to the great hall. He was never good at humility himself so this relaxed him. He was a little nervous on how the girl would behave after the discreet yet truly abrupt way of putting her off some time ago but he was more than glad to see her "failure" at captivating his interest initially only inspired her to do more.

Now he could at least brag about his date on the contrary of Camellia who'd be taking a measly mud-blooded Gryffindor...

'My "award" is to be with you on this lovely evening.'

She blushed; he smirked. 'Oh you have such a way with words...'

He let that hang in the air; did he _know_ how to talk...?

'Oh look! It's that friend of yours...Avery!'

Tom -who'd almost wheeled around to see where she was gesturing at- felt his nerves strain a little; _is she mental, reacting like that? I thought it was Camellia_...

'Bringing the "friend" subject up, where's Camellia? Have you seen her?'

And now she talked about her, great. 'Err, no. Last I saw her was this morning, first class. Why?'

'Well, it's just that you'd appeared a little displeased yesterday for not confirming with you first.'

_A "little" doesn't begin to describe it_, thought he savagely, _but I've gotten myself a far better deal; why was I even angry with her on the first place_? 'I am much more pleased things turned out this way.'

'And whom will she be going with?'

_OK, now I remember what the bloody-hell I was angry about_, thought he darkly but decided to look nothing like it. 'Hector Gryffindor.' But he couldn't sound entirely normal, as the girl gave a quick glance when she heard him pronounce the name in a little sour or cold manner.

Still, she pretended nothing was wrong and smiled big.

She might as well take out the competition through a more indirect mean... 'Oh! Him? Oh...' she nudged him playfully as her lips curled into a smirk. _Wait, she smirked-why did she smirk_? 'you know what they say about him-flirty as a Gryffindor, sexy as a Slytherin and kind as a Hufflepuff; and he has wicked luck with _**all **_ladies...'

He could see the point she was making so clearly he felt his eyes sting...! But he chose to ignore it. 'Then maybe I should have warned her...'

She giggled 'now, now Tom, what makes you think she didn't already know? Maybe that's _why_ she chose him...'

.

He refused to respond to that; he thought Patricia was purposely trying to slander Camellia, as if she knew what his problem was with her -and she may be smarter than she looks after all- yet somewhere at the back of his mind he knew she was making a fair point. But he'd never allow himself to show that; his problems with the stubborn Ravenclaw were his own to solve and for no one else to know.

The girl noticed the cold indifference in Tom's behaviour so she decided to change topics; but what could she say now? She'd hoped he'd take the bait thus it'd be easier to make sure he felt thoroughly disgusted at Camellia by the end of this night but he didn't live up to her expectations.

But then the answer to all of her problems arrived: they finally reached the great hall which in no way did it resemble the ordinary everyday great hall they had visited time and again daily.

Today it was special: the imposing dining house-tables were removed from sight and in their stead stood a dance floor -slick like an ice skating platform-, surrounded by small round tables beautifully carved and made out of ice, looking like crystals. Almost untraceable fog lay not so thick three inches above the ground while there was a fountain continuously spilling ice instead of water; the ceiling resembled the night winter sky, while small freckles of snow fell down upon them, resting on the heads of the participants. Mistletoe and other Christmas flowers were spread everywhere around the room...

But that fountain was truly magical to behold: its ice was coming out slowly yet whole while at the same time the previous part was always replaced by the next part of ice that flowed through, solid and everlasting, like a never-ending circle of life.

'Look at all these decorations!' exclaimed she, truly amazed at the sight-her eyes sparkled with the grandeur; well, they had to admit they too were amazed but they concentrated on the couple again as soon as Patricia spoke. 'It's truly magnificent; they have outdone themselves this year!'

'Indeed.' was all he said even if he too believed it to be true. Heh, how ironic-Camellia came once and that once was the best of all. He caught himself making the mental connection that it was at its best because Camellia would be coming but he willed his thought away from such ridiculous threads of reasoning.

'Smile for the camera!' and then a-

**FLASH**!

He'd forgotten there'd be a man taking the picture of each person coming in; this was a stupid tradition Dumbledore had initiated, Tom found out: everyone would have their pictures taken at the entrance when they looked the best and later on -while they'd dance and drink the night away- something would be taking their pictures as well. But then he remembered he had no idea where Camellia was; maybe he should ask-

'You two look completely stunning! Wait, I'll have your picture enter the most beautiful couple competition; if **you** don't win I don't know who will...even though Malfoy and Penelope come pretty close!'

Even if Patricia stuck her nose up high playfully he had no time for chitchat and if he remembered Malfoy and his date he'd definitely remember seeing Camellia come through...even if he had no idea who this man was and if he knew who Camellia was anyway. 'Um, do you know if Camellia Ravenclaw passed-?'

'Nope, she hasn't-not yet. Would have noticed her if she had. Hector is my best mate.'

His politeness froze on his face; suddenly he felt very cold. No wonder he knew nothing about this man-he could bet he was just another nobody like his best friend. 'Thank you...' he barely said, fighting to keep his voice amiable.

Patricia didn't like the fact he asked though so she decided to distract him. 'Oh my; people are already dancing; did we arrive late?'

'My dear Patricia we are not late; the others simply arrived too early.'

She giggled as she realized she had recaptured his attention. 'Oh, there's Abraxas with Penelope, dancing. Think we should join them?' suggested she, quite off-handed, but he thought it was sort of...cute to take such initiative so he caved.

After all- 'This is a dance; I don't see why not?'

She beamed at the man; she beamed even more if possible when he gently took her hand and guided her to the dance floor that was already over-populated with young men and women who appeared to be gliding on their feet...but all that seemed to fade in her mind as she felt Tom's hand on the small of her back, hugging her ever so lightly to bring her to a proper stance. Her heart beat quickened; suddenly the whole world was she, Tom and the little space between them. It was smaller than ever before, even if it was normal for the standards of this dance, and she could no longer hear the song but the drumming of her heart at her ear drums. How she wished Tom felt the same...

.

.

.

That he didn't, that was certain; he kept glancing around in an effort to spot familiar faces and his "best friend" aka his first death eater in rank, Abraxas- as well as any sign of Camellia, that annoying date of hers or even _Michael_ as he was sure he'd know where she'd be. The thought alone made him brew; why wasn't she there yet? It was strong enough a thought that he missed the opportunity to answer Abraxas's wink -when the girls weren't looking of course- or Avery's curt salute to acknowledge his master's presence or even Nott's "hello".

They danced for a full quarter of an hour before finally heading to the tables; as he watched all around he spied, where the teachers' tables were earlier, a rich buffet with all sorts of mouth watering foods and drinks for all ages. He made a mental note to himself to head there as soon as his date would allow him. He didn't believe he'd ever think that but...he needed a drink.

So the young couple, in the company of Abraxas and his date, headed to one of the sculptured ice tables and the man at the entrance wasn't overreacting one bit when he'd said they were a close second: Abraxas's long hair were slicked down, combed into a neat bow in the matching green of his dress robes. His beautiful blue eyes seemed to stand out from his pale face even stronger now. His date, a very attractive yet not so good-natured looking woman, was wearing black dress robes a little more revealing than any other woman in the hall -in which helped her curvaceous yet slim figure- and her emerald piercing eyes were scanning everything around her. She was airing herself with her elegant small fan -in the same green as Malfoy's robes- as they sat down at the table altogether.

They had no trouble finding a place to their liking, with Penelope always being the one leading them where she wished. She was a ruthless Slytherin pureblood who always got what she wanted and this year, she wanted Abraxas as her date.

'It's terribly hot; why don't the boys bring us something to refresh us?' asked the Slytherin, still airing herself idly yet graciously; her tone betrayed she didn't ask for anything though, she merely ordered.

'That would be a lovely idea; what shall we get you?'

Tom jumped at this; he would be otherwise annoyed by this woman's tone but right now it served his purpose so he sucked it up.

'I'd love a butterbeer!' Patricia said hoping he'd remember this was the drink she had brought for him on their first date.

'I want anything that will help me cool off; why don't you choose for me darling?' Penelope said to Abraxas, making him smile deviously. Oh she knew how to push his buttons, much better than that stupid Ravenclaw -Jules if she recalled- who had her sights on him did.

'Two drinks for the ladies coming right away...' Abraxas said winking and the two men immediately turned about and headed to the buffet.

As soon as they were out of the girls' earshot, they conversed. 'Patricia looks fabulous Tom.'

'So does Penelope; I concur. And you don't look bad yourself.'

'My deepest thanks my lord; so do you...'

'Thank you Abraxas, I believe so myself...'

They started picking out drinks for everyone as soon as they reached the arrange of foods and drinks: Tom picked up two butterbeers: one for Patricia and one for Penelope -either she liked it or not-... 'What will you have my lord?'

'I think I'll have mullet mead; you?'

'I'll take one of those, too...'

There was something strange in the air around them tonight; these two were conversing amiably, the same flattery used as always and they sounded like two normal people having a conversation...but there was something they both wanted to say but neither dared. The two of them felt like that, too because even after having all of the drinks in their hands, they still didn't move.

Until Malfoy's pleasant keep-up-appearances smile dropped and he sighed surrendered at his master's pigheadedness. 'I haven't seen her yet; I've been here the longest and I even told Mark at the entrance to keep an eye out but so far no sign.'

And then everything felt normal again; they made their way back to their dates, saluting a few people as they cut through the dance floor.

'I can't quite fathom whom you're referring to...but how can she still _not_ be here? She's always on time-always! What's keeping her?'

'I do not know Tom...'

Abraxas lied but he figured saying what he really thought -**Hector** was, by sticking his tongue in her mouth or something of the sort- wouldn't help with Tom's mood. After all there was no need upsetting him. 'I'm guessing she'll be here soon though.'

'Humph! I don't care; she might as well never come.'

_Right_... Malfoy thought, but again decided against saying anything out loud.

They reached the girls who were lightly conversing between themselves yet it was evident Penelope found Patricia's talk or choice of topic most annoying while Patricia understood nothing about it. 'Here are your drinks my ladies; Abraxas Malfoy, always at the service of beautiful women.'

They had switched drinks midway; Tom had no intention of serving any woman tonight, not with the way his mood was. So he refrained from any grand speeches or gestures such as Malfoy's and only smiled at them; Penelope caught wind of his bad mood immediately so she said nothing-she only bowed her head to both men.

'Thank you very much.' was all she said, looking up.

'Thank you~!' Patricia exclaimed, completely missing Tom's attitude -something that brought a smile to Penelope's face, how thick could this girl be? -.

'No problem; let's make a toast to more beautiful days and nights like this one!' Malfoy was once more the one leading things as Tom remained silent but he did give a smile and raised his glass, faking content.

They saluted; at the silence that followed and they drank their alcohol of choice they all heard a voice saying 'stop that...' daintily.

.

.

Malfoy froze. That was Camellia's voice! Tom would be very angry...he turned to his lord warily: he seemed he hadn't heard anything, as he kept his unaffected look but he was sure he noticed Tom's lip twitching dangerously frequently. And now he was sure he had heard her. He just didn't want to satisfy his curiosity and turn to look at her because that would only satisfy Camellia's ego, too.

'Oh did you hear that? It must be Camellia.' Patricia sounded almost jubilant at the arrival, making Tom feel worse without even noticing it.

But Penelope's ever watchful eye caught everything and made her wonder what the problem may be. She knew Tom and Camellia never dated and all the rumours were just that, unfounded rumours...but this new development held her interest. 'Camellia Ravenclaw?' asked seemingly apathetic; she knew she would convince them since, being a true Slytherin, she disliked all mudbloods and she didn't feel too comfortable in their presence. She never really met Camellia though and now, no matter how indifferent she sounded, she was really bent on it.

'Ah yes; didn't you hear Tom?'

'I was not paying attention to anyone else but you...'

* * *

_Ugh!_ The four of them thought simultaneously; there was a limit to how sappy one could sound without losing his coolness factor and Tom Marvolo Riddle just exceeded it.

* * *

'Oh stop it you...' Patricia said blushing yet she sounded like she wanted the opposite. 'But there she is: she and Hector.' continued the girl, still unaware of Tom's excessively bad mood as she craned her neck to get a better view; when Tom didn't make the trouble of turning, neither did Malfoy out of courtesy. 'Oh they saw us, they are coming here...!'

_Can she just stop with the narrative_? He felt she was doing it on purpose! And the way Camellia kept coming closer and closer he felt like a small animal that was being cornered by a wild beast. He felt a lump at his throat while his insides started dancing but this once without him. He hated feeling his stomach like that but he still didn't oblige his curiosity by turning to see the woman in question -because he was sure that that was the source of his anxiety-...but Abraxas couldn't help himself; his eyes darted to Camellia and her date while approaching.

'Wow; she looks amazing.' The impassiveness with which Penelope –and not Patricia- stated this aggravated him and the way Abraxas's eyes widened a little yet significant amount when he laid his sights upon her made things worse all the more.

'She is astonishingly well-groomed; not to her normal standards, much-much better indeed. But that is all there is to it...' said Abraxas, trying his hardest to prepare his friend; yet Tom knew if it was enough for Abraxas to look -even momentarily- shocked then she must be quite...different.

Oh well, it was all in his mind; he'd turn, he'd merely will himself not to look surprised or gobsmacked at all -like Patricia did right about now- and he would never give her the satisfaction. Never. Especially if she'd gotten into so much trouble to make the effect. He turned...

.

.

He saw her; she truly looked...different! Completely.

'She looks so...beautiful!' Patricia said, blinking in surprise and not happy at all-she'd hoped to get Camellia there so she would look so much better in comparison to Tom and everyone else around but...saying the plan backfired was an understatement.

'Humph; she isn't beautiful she is provocative.' snapped Tom, feeling anger rising within him; what was wrong with her looking like that-she never went into so much trouble looking her best when she was with him, did she?

But in all honesty, she looked both beautiful **and** provocative: she was wearing fiery red dress-robes that hugged her curves in all the right places; the whole attire was stressed by the emphasized deep neckline. Red equals passion; neckline equals "look at my breasts". Her signals were glaringly obvious to him -which was the source of his newfound anger- and the fact she was sending all of those signals in favour of someone other than _him_ made him crazy!

'Hello! How are you? Oh dear, you all look magnificent tonight! Don't they Hector?'

'Why yes love' _Love!_ 'such beautiful ladies...and gentlemen I guess but forgive me for not noticing you quite as much.' Hector excused himself, casually waving his hand.

He looked quite nice himself: he was wearing deep blue elegant robes that gave a very aristocratic feel about him; his brown hair were unruly as usual but they looked positively fitting with his image while his brown eyes gazed upon every woman warmly and seductively.

Tom's nose wrinkled; 'You are excused.' said he sourly; he didn't even bother hiding his displeasure as he looked down upon him, truly trying to belittle him -he was a relatively short man for a guy as Patricia was a centimetre or so taller than him-. 'But what's up with you two? You exchanged dormitory colours?'

'Why, I thought it was a wonderful idea; don't you?' Camellia asked laughingly, removing her hair from her shoulder to give herself a little space to breath.

And then he noticed her long brown hair for the first time: they were for once well taken care of -Jules's influence, he was sure-, silky and soft -he kept himself from tugging on them meanly as she flourished them- while the right side of her bangs were pulled up by a silver rose which decorated her head. He caught himself staring at it and he cursed himself. Why did she have to look so good tonight? Admittedly and objectively, Patricia and Penelope did look much better but the sudden transformation certainly attracted attention. His as well.

'No, I think it is a childish and naive idea; besides I find it a little lacking in execution. The colour...and the robes-don't you think it's a bit too much for a Christmas party Cam'?' Tom commented, keeping up with his reproachful attitude as he shot a direct look at her cleavage; everyone, even without following his eyes knew what he was talking about. Yet they didn't seem to share the same opinion.

'Why? I think you've spent a little too much time around the teachers Tom-she looks delicious.' Hector supported his date's choices while casting a very different kind of look at the girl's full, half-exposed bust. When Tom noticed it –being the tallest gave you all sorts of interesting information- clenched his fist in an ultimate attempt to keep himself in check.

'She looks fine...' Penelope agreed wickedly, ever watchful of Tom's behaviour and so amused by his date's inability to do so as well.

Well, what else could Penelope say; she was dressed everything but prudently herself.

Abraxas though decided to be the reconciliation factor; he took Camellia's hand and kissed it, always the perfect gentleman. 'I think you look like chocolate; sweet but tempting. Yet tempting nonetheless.'

'Always a diplomat Abraxas; but you didn't have to comment.'

He still didn't let go of her hand. 'How could I not? You do look nothing but a temptation.'

'How about I flirt with Penelope, Malfoy?'

Everyone went momentarily still; the girls giggled but Abraxas knew if Tom took this even half-seriously then he'd be in deep trouble...Malfoy's eyes fell on his shoes immediately while he discarded Camellia's hand. He hoped Penelope was really as amused as she looked or else he was in for a storm. He coughed 'why don't I take my date away for a dance? Care to join me Penelope?'

'More than gladly.' as much as she enjoyed watching Tom squirm she really had no intention of spending the night with a bunch of quarreling "couples".

As they left -with Tom raising an eyebrow testily- Patricia started surveying the new arrivals; she was miffed by the girl's appearance as well as how good-looking Hector was.

'I see everyone has a drink in hand; why don't I get you one, too?'

'Ah yes; a fire whiskey would be nice-make it double.'

'Oh? Bracing yourself for what's to happen tonight dear?'

She slapped him; Tom would never say it out loud but he was more than glad to see someone _else_ other than himself getting slapped. 'Fetch me my drink and stop being a self-important prat.'

'Yes your highness.' he joked and bowed deeply to her as he went.

Sensing _another_ storm coming, Patricia knew it wouldn't be prudent to stay with them when Hector would leave -despite her reluctance to leave these two alone due to various jealousy factors- . She knew not why but it felt like Camellia was the only person who could stand Tom when he was being an arse. 'I have to go to the ladies room; keep him company Camellia, can you?'

She smiled like a doused cat 'If he doesn't throttle first...' said she amiably yet reading Tom's disgruntled mood -a mood Patricia chose to ignore-.

The two best friends watched their dates as they went to their own ways; suddenly lace dancing about was a transfixing sight...there was a brief silence between them before Tom finally decided to speak, stern and rigid 'Very discreet of you Camellia; could have worn nothing but your underwear and would have attracted less attention.'

'Obviously I have attracted yours so mission accomplished...not to mention Hector's-he can't take his eyes off of me.' she was originally sarcastic but in the end teasing.

'I can't blame him; have you looked yourself in a **mirror**?'

'Don't be sour; and you do blame Hector because if I noticed Hector's wandering eyes I have also noticed your glares. Stop glowering at my date Tom.'

He scoffed. 'He's been staring at your-...' he held himself back from saying "boobs" '**you**' he decided finally 'all the while; I'm your friend so I'm supposed to protect you from this sort of people!'

'Protect me?' echoed she; she found his choice of words most amusing. 'Whatever makes you think I want or need to be protected? Hector may be a lot of things but he's tame...and he is only a guy!'

'_**I**_'m only a guy, too but I don't stare at your-...**you** even if I have an obvious advantage to do so!'

'Oh so if I'd come with you he wouldn't stare at **my**-...me you think?' she shook her head at how he had affected her.

'Of course not because there would be no way I'd ever allow you to wear such clothes.'

All the while she was trying to smother her laughs and hide her amusement the best she could -even if it weren't always a success- but now she had started getting a tiny little pissed. 'What in earth makes you think that?' her smile was still there, her voice was still amiable but she had started feeling her anger rising and she was sure he did, too -if his malevolent smirk was any indication-.

'...For one thing, on the contrary of Hector, I don't think my date is worth my while only if she is dressed like a complete **slut**.'

. . .

**SLAP!**

Her lip quivered a little while still trying to control her nerves; apparently she had angered him more than she had planned and in spite he was angering her, too. She didn't like this sort of abusive, retaliating relationship they shared but she was certain it wouldn't be changing any time tonight so she decided to just look unaffected. 'I do not think I look like a slut and apart from you I reck' no one does, too but if you don't feel comfortable in my presence then-!'

'Where do you think you're going?' He grabbed her arm as she tried to make her grand exit -feeling nothing but insulted- and glared her down. 'Let you leave and allow..._him_ to be alone with you? I think not.'

'Tom, I'm not your cattle!'

'You're **not** the centre of attention, too-!'

'Wow, easy there mate; let go of the girl nice and slow...'

For the first time, Hector sounded serious; he'd just come back with two glasses of alcoholic beverages and he looked nothing close to pleased...Tom shot him a murderous look but obliged the man and released her -yet not so delicately, as he almost threw her hand away-. Hector seemed satisfied and handed Camellia her drink -still keeping an eye on Tom- and stood directly between them.

He toasted; she returned it and they both drank; Tom looked at both distastefully and quite disapprovingly. 'You're not drinking with us Tom?'

'I don't feel the need to; pardon me.'

'No problem' he said shrugging; he really couldn't care less about him, he only wanted what was promised to him by Camellia and her spending so much time with Tom was definitely not one of those-at least not until he found Patricia...who was currently missing. 'Oh there is Patricia!' he waved and she almost skidded to them 'how are you feeling dear? The lipstick in place?' he joked as soon as she was close enough to hear; she pouted.

'Hector dear don't you have a date to be coy to?'

'Indeed but I can be coy to _both_...'

'_Please_ refrain from doing so.' If Tom was a snake he'd be injecting poison by now...

_That stung_, Patricia thought, but still didn't pay any mind to it; she was decided to make this night memorable for her and that would only be achieved only if she got a boyfriend.

'What's your problem Riddle? Is it wrong I can be nice and flattering to both admittedly wonderful ladies?'

'Yeah, why can't you be like that, too?' Patricia asked imploringly; now he had wished he's bitten his tongue-the last thing he wanted was Patricia complaining about anything. In fact, all he wanted was for Hector and Patricia to disappear...maybe Camellia too out of sheer pigheadedness.

But thankfully Hector didn't wait for him to say anything and cut in. 'You know what? I feel like dancing! C'mon Cam, let's go-!'

'I don't want to dance yet; I'm still drinking my fire whiskey.'

'Aw, but I want to dance!'

'I want to dance, too!' Patricia interjected, clapping her hands in delight.

_Oh god no..._

'Um I really don't feel like dancing yet, too dear.' he tried to decline politely but it didn't work apparently because she wasn't ready to give up.

'To~m...please!' she could see all of her hopes and dreams for the night vanish right before her eyes; he preferred staying here and boil with Camellia instead of having a good time by dancing with her? That didn't sound too good...

'Yeah To~m; dance with her!' Camellia made fun of him, using the same mincing voice with the blond; he could feel the need of his hand to strike at something.

'Why don't you go dance with Hector and let **me** decide what to do with my date?'

And he was even spiteful because Hector asked Camellia to dance? She didn't know what the hell was wrong with Tom and she knew they weren't dating but if he was being so possessive over her for no real reason and the tension between them was this heavy then she saw no reason why they **didn't** date. She had half the chemistry with other men and she'd dated them for over a month...

But then Camellia had a sudden epiphany 'Oh I know! Tell you what we'll do: Hector' she took his arm 'will take Patricia' she took her arm 'and the two of them will go dancing like they want to. This way it's a win-win situation for everyone!' she finished linking their arms together.

Patricia looked amazed by the suggestion but she didn't complain; in fact, she saw this as a very good deal: if Tom was paying no attention to her then maybe Hector would and she'd get to make him jealous or -if she didn't- then she'd at least get back to Camellia for stealing her date by stealing hers.

Tom looked suspicious; why the sudden change of heart from the girl, to change her attitude completely?

Hector smirked. 'But I warn you...this woman is so beautiful I might even forget I used to have a date. Are you certain-?'

'Aw! Humph!' she feigned immense offense. 'Fine then, take the little siren and leave me alone; I wouldn't want to be with such a fickle man on the first place-what shame to think I came here with you.'

'What did you expect from a Gryffindor?'

'Shut up Riddle! That's not what I meant love-'

'Just shut up and get out of my sight; both of you! Go on go on; leave me alone!'

She practically shoved them away by pushing both of their backs towards the crowded dance floor; no one dared opposing her while Patricia just barely managed to spare a last look of apology to her date -one she did not truly feel- before they had mingled with the crowd.

He found it amazing how she could do so much strenuous labour with such a low-cut dress without having any "accidents" -he only guessed she'd bewitched it to stay in place- as he watched her coming back, her hands firmly crossed.

She then just went there next to him, promptly sitting down as she watched people dance; she sipped her drink silently while Tom watched her instead and she could feel his eyes burning wholes into her head. But she wasn't discouraged -OK, maybe a little but she didn't let it show-and did nothing to make him more comfortable, too -as she was sure he was also feeling awkward at this-.

'You don't look like-' he figured if he was about to attempt an apology he should not say the word "slut" again, even if it were to apologize for it '...what I implied earlier. I was overreacting.' Ironically now that both nuisances had removed themselves he'd found it very easy to think reasonably again.

'I am glad you think so.' said she placid; she was trying her hardest not to smile.

'But you shouldn't drink any more than that or you'll get drunk.'

She couldn't resist it this once though and a wide grin spread all over her face. 'Oh I'll be fine; my alcohol tolerance is nothing like yours.' She'd returned to her previous self that was good to know.

'Yet this is fire whiskey...'

It was good to see he'd returned to his previous self, too. 'And what? You want a sip?'

'No.' _Yes_.

'I bet you do-come on, here, have one!'

'Err, no thank-.'

'I said drink so you'll drink; now open your mouth...'

He rolled his eyes and since she was already torturing him by circling his nose with the drink he grabbed her glass, almost spilling some of it on his robes; he swallowed.

'There; satisfied?'

She giggled as she nodded. 'But no more for you, your cheeks are already red.'

'Stop teasing me woman.'

'"Woman"? What's with you tonight?' asked she suspiciously...even if the first thought that crossed her mind was: _so manly!_

'What with **me**-what's with _you_ tonight? Coming here late wearing such an attention-seeking dress in such an attention-seeking colour with such a hands-on partner; you even wore heels and did your hair...what d'you do with the real Camellia?'

She rolled her eyes 'I strapped her on a chair' the idea sounded nice -and kinky- enough to him 'honestly don't be so dramatic; I was under no circumstances late -there is no fix time to come to a ball- and Hector is **very** tame...and my clothes are fine; is it wrong I want to be perfect, just for one night?'

'Humph! You? Why?'

The idea of Camellia being concerned about her appearance was plainly ridiculous.

She blushed and looked away...but for quite a different reason than the one Tom surmised: she wasn't ashamed but she was fighting with herself not to laugh; everything was going just as she'd expected, this was great! 'Well this is the first time I ever come to this thing **and** without Jules-she had to return home; and just maybe I wanted to look nice for my date, too...'

'Y-you did? You mean you're...interested in Hector-romantically I mean...?'

'I can't say I've considered it but I certainly thought about him that way-...oh what am I saying? I should stop...' she feigned modesty.

'No, DO continue!'

'...Alright...' she faked her surprise and went on 'I believe he is a good choice should I put myself through that: experienced, funny, **not** clingy; that is should I be interested in such things.'

'Which you're not.' It was an uncertain statement, almost a question. That was the last thing he needed-Camellia going out with some guy; if _he_ waited like a fucking Penelope -and he didn't mean Abraxas date- then she should, too!

'Precisely.'

'Oh!' the feeling of relief that washed over him was too large to put it in words but at the same time he hated he felt that way because of a mudblood. 'That's um, good right?'

She shrugged 'Well; it's a state of mind. It doesn't have to be good or bad.' said she apathetically.

He smirked; she could be as coy as she wanted, he knew she was deep down always waiting for him. 'It's a good point of view from where I'm standing.' shot he arrogantly.

She chuckled. 'No; it's a good **view** from where you're standing...'

He smirked; 'you may be right...'

.

.

.

And the night passed; the two relocated from their table to the buffet in front of the drinks but other than that they did nothing else but talk, be and drink in each other's presence for the rest of the night. From times to times Abraxas came back to join them, some of Camellia's friends -even Michael- made a quick appearance as well as the usual suspects from Tom's company yet they all had one thing in common: they came and went, none of them staying with them for more than ten minutes.

But it was late; they could tell because the only people that were left were one teacher, Dumbledore, and two students: Tom and her. They were speaking to one another vividly with exaggerated hand gestures, stupidly smiling and laughing to each other's most possibly dim-witted jokes. They both had a glass in hand either full or half empty...yes, the merry atmosphere as well as the dangerous swaying on their chairs made the four realize these two were positively drunk.

'And then she says "it's _your_ fault for being such an emotional git" so I snub her "oh, don't say that; you're bringing tears to my eyes"!'

They laughed heartily...well, drunkenly anyway as this was not funny at all and had they been sober they'd be both swearing the girl Camellia was talking about.

'You should have just slapped her.'

'What-are you serious? I never use force to prove my point-only to punish those who disagree with me even after proving myself correct!'

'So you're telling me you've cancelled out violence as a mean of pressure and persuasion for achieving your goal...? You are mad.'

'I know...but do _you_ wanna know a secret?'

'What kind of secret?'

'Well do you?' she insisted.

He rolled his eyes -the best way he could- '...yes.'

She snickered after she looked around to make sure no one was listening in on her -even if the great hall was empty-; both their speech was slurry and dragged out at parts; their eyes were barely staying open, just enough so they could see. 'Then lemme tell you tonight is no coincidence...'

'I know; they organize it once every year.'

'Not the dance you git-this whole date confusion...'

''Scuse me?'

'You heard me; I knew from the very beginning Hector would whisk your date away thus leaving the pair of us alone in the process. In fact...I made it so! I knew Hector still liked me even after all this time yet he would never gruel over me and I also knew he liked Patricia so...given Hector is the kinda man who can't deny a woman **and** a deal that ensures him having two actual dates to the same ball while helping his old crush and getting his knew one, I proposed this! So I managed to stop Hector from running after me and Patricia from drooling over you for good.' As she finished there was a brief silence. 'Aren't I simply ingenious?'

'Truly cunning.' said he smirking.

When she was plotting like this, especially for the reason of keeping Patricia away from him, he felt very aroused. He felt very aroused at the thought of her trying to claim him -with every primitive image and feeling that brought to mind- and her going to such elaborate extents to do so stimulated his mind as much as it did his body.

He felt the urge to take her right then and there on that table; to posses, to _rule _her; after all the grieve she'd given him tonight this wouldn't even begin to relieve him. He wanted to bruise her, to dominate her...but when he tried to do anything else other than looking at her he found it extremely difficult. His head was already spinning as it was and he could barely see her...he blamed the alcohol for everything.

So they stared at each other, longer than ever before; looking deeply into his grey eyes as he was looking back into her emerald ones; time seemed to have frozen, wrapped up as they were, while the little space they had left was soon to be reduced to zero...

'We are so drunk!'

'Definitely.'

They laughed; all he could see was green as he looked at her and all she could see was grey. Nothing more, nothing detailed; misty eyes met clouded ones and they both knew they were too intoxicated by alcohol to even see straight without squinting and their swaying only helped in trying to see well. It was ridiculously funny!

But suddenly she stood up, knocking her chair down in the process; he looked at her surprised. '...I think we overstayed our welcome;' she mumbled as soon as she found her balance again 'look at the time-three o'clock! Everyone had already left, too; the house elves must hate us.'

He rolled his eyes amused -with great difficulty-. 'Who cares about the house elves?' snapped he, as he pulled her close, in a futile effort to make her sit in his lap.

* * *

'He said what! Oh for the love of Merlin how can he be so insensitive!'

No one dared argue with Hermione; they all remembered the dreadful caps, shocks and the rest of the pieces of clothing she'd knitted for them and the hell she's given them about the freedom of house elves and their rights...they only smothered a chuckle or two.

* * *

'Don't be like that... it's really late and with all this drinking I feel I could drop unconscious.' complained the girl as she resisted him and instead used the force of his pull to make him stand.

'Oh alright...how about a dance before we leave? One dance-the music's already playing.'

'You mean the music is **still** playing but no, no dance; I'm tipsy enough as it is, if I start dancing I'll probably collapse.'

He twirled her around and her body -_boobs_- crushed into him; he smirked at the sudden softness and welcomed it, pushing himself forward; he rested his hands on her sides. 'Then I'll catch you...'

'You'll probably collapse yourself...' said she humorously and pushed him off of her; she could see were this was going and she didn't like it at all.

No matter how much alcohol she'd consumed -apparently- her judgement hadn't lapsed enough to let herself get carried away by his forward gestures...as much as she wanted. No, she shouldn't allow him to sweep her away into his own realm of -what she was sure to be- pent up aggression sexuality and fantasies; hers were more than enough and even if she regretted her decision she knew that it was the right one.

So she shouldn't let her own feelings get the better of her; she pushed him away lightly yet firmly and she curtly nodded to follow her. She would take no objection to this and he should learn to live with it.

.

That he already had: he sighed frustrated but followed nonetheless -even if he was reluctant to let go-. But he had a plan, a devious idea in his mind to have his way after all. 'Would you please slow down? I can barely walk straight and it wouldn't do the person escorting you to be left behind...'

'Escort me? But then it'd take you thrice the time it'd normally take you had you not walked me to your dorm-...my. My dormitory. Right.'

He chuckled; 'right; now move along.'

All the way to the sixth floor they walked in silence -talking while walking would take too much energy, energy they lacked- as they were leaning to one another for support, not to trip over their own two feet while ascending the stairs _very_ slowly thus getting lost a couple of times.

They ended up taking twice the time to reach her floor than they should have.

When they arrived at long last he prevented her from going to the doorknob; instead, he tugged on her hand without looking at her, but instead somewhere behind him: he was showing her their new destination; narrowing her eyes questioningly, still she allowed him to drag her to where he wanted, interested to see what he was getting at.

He stopped a few metres away; behind him two doors appeared out of the wall, imposing and enormous, yet they produced virtually no sound as they opened to show its contents: the Room of Requirement revealed itself.

She gave him a wicked yet scolding look as her hands flew to her sides for the first time that night.

'Come on Cam'...just one song. You didn't get to dance even that...' she continued glaring at him in the same way but his persistence didn't falter. 'Just one. Dance...' his voice trailed away purposely while he extended his hand to her in invitation as he took a step back...

She yielded. 'One song...' warned she as she took his hand finally and allowed him to lead her inside.

To her evident surprise, the room looked nothing like it did when they were here the last time, yet it was nothing close to a dance floor either; it resembled a living room -blown out of proportion-. There was a big empty space in the middle of the room which was surrounded by big comfy sofas and a record player disposed on a small ornate wooden table. The room was adorned with festive decorum, giving the impression they were at another ball.

She smiled; this man's inventiveness had no end. 'What a cosy place to be...' commented she, as he led her at the very centre of the "dance floor".

'No; this is the perfect place for a private party for two...'

The record started playing; it was a familiar sound to all who were listening, even if it weren't a traditionally magician's song but a muggle's surprisingly: the "twelve days of Christmas" started playing, the smooth voice of the singer ringing in their ears while the music played a little slower than usual...

She rested her head on his chest, her hands snaked around his neck, already moving slowly to the rhythm of the song; her eyes laded by sleep yet stubbornness to retain her awareness yet the faintest of smiles curved her lips. Tom's hands -when he made sure she was taken in enough not to protest- trailed her figure everywhere; finally they settled on the small of her back, painfully itching to go lower...yet he denied himself in the name of their "truce".

He brought her closer roughly, eliminating the very little space she'd carefully left; he didn't care what she wanted at this point so this subtle barrier she'd set up could go to hell. He only wanted to feel her skin under his fingers; he longed to bury his face into her neck so he could smell her her hair and while doing so he'd get to see and even feel how he affected her, how she'd tremble at the sensation his hot breath sent down her spine...imagine how she'd react if he bit her...

She started humming to the music; he smiled. She started singing; he cringed. Her voice was horrible...but it was funny nevertheless. 'You have a very bad voice my dear...'

'I know...'

'Then why are you singing?'

'I don't expect praise for it.'

He smirked and shook his head but surprisingly he started humming along...

They moved to the repetitive beat; even if he didn't get to do what he wanted to her or her neck as he felt if he ducked his head an inch alone he'd faint, at least he enjoyed his little palpation exploit. He didn't know if it was the girl's figure or her temperament behind it but he wished he'd drank less alcohol because currently she was too compliant and she'd allow him do _anything_...he cursed himself for missing such a chance but what else could he do in his current state?

Suddenly a voice interrupted his musing; 'Tom?'

'Yes?'

'Isn't it a little too long for one song?'

'Oh you noticed? Well, it **is** one same song...only in repeat.'

She dropped her hands as she peered at him apathetically. 'Let's go.'

She turned about and left-...only she didn't; he looked at her wondered. 'What's keeping you?'

'Keeping is right-you're still holding my hand. Let go.'

He blinked surprised, completely ignoring the nod she gave downwards. 'I don't know what the blazes you're talking about.' he countered.

'This' she raised her hand high enough for him to notice his own hand clutching it bruisingly strong 'is what I'm talking about; now let go.'

He smirked, still averting his eyes from what she was showing to him. 'I still don't know what you're talking about; you're free to go...'

She was about to protest one last time-but he didn't let her: he pulled her, crushing into him; she lost her footing upon collision -she never was good at balancing anyway- but didn't simply stop there...she dragged Tom down with her, making him lose his balance as well, and together now they crushed into the sofa next to them.  
Thankfully it was soft and she didn't hurt anywhere -as Tom made sure she was the one to land wherever they landed...

'Ha ha; thank Merlin you were **not** holding me...!'

'Mm...'

'Tom?'

'...'

'Tom...'

His face buried in her bosom, her neck -his wish coming true after all- he lay upon her rigid. His breath was coming out even and deep as his hands hugged her curves like she was a pillow; profusely blushing at the things his hands _dared_ do to her even in his sleep -she was perfectly certain sleeping men didn't fondle their pillows-, she tried to shake him awake...but it didn't do anyone any good; the slight rocking only made her feel her eyelids coated with lead and drowsiness was like the force of gravity, pulling them down.

She fell asleep, too.

He quirked an eyebrow even as his eyes remained shut, a smirk forming on his lips 'I'd never sleep before you...stupid.' was the last thing he said; when he made sure she was soundly asleep, he relished the feeling of her and only then did he really fall under...

* * *

:3 Hope you enjoyed! Please review and/or message!


	26. Seventh year introduction

**A/N**:I really wanna say this; thank you all who read review favour and alert but my special thanks to the amazing **22ARMILEDAR22 **! Thank you for the support sweetie, you're the best!

A fair warning, next chapter won't be coming for a month...bloody exams.

Anyway...huge chapter! But you're used to them, aren't you? :3

* * *

'I'd never sleep before you...stupid.'

For a moment everything was black; the next everything was illuminated. Yet the room felt different: the previously festive-looking room now appeared but a shadow of its former self; it gave that feeling one gets when walking into a room where the previous night there was a party but now everything was colourless and dull.

The young couple lay there, forgotten; Tom, already awake -after making the effort of adopting a position that would neither wake Camellia nor pain himself from the awkwardness of the angle-, watched the girl as she slept. He could honestly say he was transfixed at the sight of her half-covered breasts ascending and descending with each breath, occasionally blowing some of her hair out of the way. But what really made him want to laugh was the fact she snored! _He_ didn't, he was sure of that so the fact **she** did -a girl- was all the more surprising; he didn't mind it as much as he found it anti-feminising!

...but her snoring stopped. He quirked an eyebrow questioningly but when she started stirring he realized she was awaking! He shut his eyes and tried to be as convincing at feigning sleep as before. He felt her move and stretch, yawning all the while; but then she froze-...

.

.

She felt her senses coming to her little by little, followed by pieces of memories from the previous night; she was sleeping on something soft -_that's good-_, but she remembered she didn't go to her room..._the Room of Requirement, of course_. And who else but Tom led her there the night before for "one" dance...but then they fell down! And when she tried to wake him-

'_**Oh no**_!'

She violently pushed him off as she shrieked the two little words; could his ears ever bleed, this would be the occasion but, to his terror, he had to act as if he was asleep and she just jerked him awake. He pretended alarm, looking all around him with worry, and as soon as he "spotted" her, he gave her a look full of inquisitiveness.

'Wh-what, what happened?'

She gave him the most furious and reprimanding look she could '_What happened_-how can you ask that?' she was already pacing up and down erratically with her hands crossed; that was never a good sign, he knew from a **lot** of personal experience. 'Do you have any idea what this looks like? What's the time? And pick yourself up from the floor.'

'It's six o'clock...why?' answered he, cool as always, while getting up as she instructed; the sight of him doing as she'd told him relaxed her a little but to have the nerve to ask why she was being like this...!

She was annoyed by every little thing he did and his ability to be perfectly calm in cases such as these infuriated her; she was the only one freaking out. She didn't like that.

'Only because: we're still in the Room of bloody-Requirement! What if one of the teachers is already up and about? What if they catch us-we're definitely out after curfew, don't you think? And what will they think if they see us together?'

_Oh _that_'s what this is about_...

Sitting on the sofa, he crossed his long legs slowly...

She wanted to smother him.

'The only reasonable conclusion they could come to would be that we spent the night together -most probably slept together, too-' said he composed yet arrogant as he turned away from her -who was now so shocked yet angry one could not describe her glare in words- 'which is the truth, really.'

She was scandalized! 'We did most certainly not sleep together!'

'...we did.'

'No we didn't!'

_Not _these_ crap again,_ thought he exasperated yet a little thorn of anger pricked at his stomach; why was she always trying to deny what had transpired between them? His head started hurting and was it either due to the hangover or her behaviour -or both- he couldn't tell. 'We just slept together and you won't pretend this never happened, too!'

'That is not what I meant you dimwitted prat...!' but her snub turned into a blush 'I meant we only...slept together,' she strained the word to give it a meaning 'we didn't...sleep together' she strained the word again to give it a different meaning 'like... doing anything right?'

He smirked; how could she wonder about that-if _he_ remembered then so did she...! Or did she?

And then he noticed: their clothes were wrinkled, his jacket was off -when did he remove it?- her robes overall were a mess as well as her hair -even her rose was drooping-; she had only one shoe on when she'd woken up which was kicked off as soon as she started moving -he knew she hated anything with a heel and wore them only because the robes were too long and otherwise they'd be swiping the floor-. The edges of her dress were hitched up, for some unfathomable reason caught by the fabric of her underwear. Not that he could see the underwear as the folds of her dress covered all the way to her knee but...he knew because he had put them there.

Or that'd be his best guess anyway; he was sure he'd dag under her skirt to reach her legs yesterday while pretending to be asleep and he was definite he had felt the fabric of something -_her panties, since she's wearing no stockings_ he'd thought at the time- which was where he'd stopped.

Judging from the situation though, he should refrain from revealing this sort of information to her.

'Don't worry, nothing happened' she seemed relieved 'and we know because of two simple reasons: **first**, had we done_ anything_ _at all_ you'd definitely remember' his voice suggestive and arrogant, he caught her hand before she motioned to slap him, without ever rising from the couch 'and **second** you'd under no circumstances be so sour today.' He caught both of her hands as an extra precaution; he basked in her blush and her now wounded innocence-what a beautiful sight it was. 'Now I'll let you go; don't try hitting me or I'll grab you again.'

'...fine, you cheap extortionist.' she barked at him as she looked away. 'Now let's just go; should anyone ask us when we got to sleep we'll say I was at my dorm by a quarter past three and you reached yours at half past three OK? That is of course unless a teacher catches us. Savvy?'

He saluted. 'Yes boss.'

'Drop the act and move; the sooner we both leave the better.'

She was very interesting when she was being bossy, demanding yet bashful at the same time; frantically trying to fix her clothes yet requesting every bit of his obedience-it was an impossible combination. If he counted how many times he'd smirked since yesterday at the ball to now, he was sure double digits wouldn't manage to describe it.

'As you wish; oh...' said he, finally accepting his fate was to bare with her; he grabbed her hand and used her as a counterweight to stand. 'Good morning Camellia.' finished he pleasantly as he planted a kiss on her cheek so fleetingly, she barely felt it.

It was enough to make her blush; 'M-morning Tom...'

=:=:=:=

He left before she could follow; he might have looked cool and relaxed but the truth was that he was practically running all the way to his dormitory. Hiding in corners and shadows, double-checking every corridor before walking it and even looking out for any unexpected "Dumbledores" coming up at him -the man was watching his every move ever since last year-.

But the air was refreshing; it gave him plenty of time to think. He had really wanted to have nothing to do with all those pesky "feelings" but it was obvious the girl wanted him to; he'd bet all the gold he owned the only reason the girl was resisting him was because somehow she felt his colder, self-interested side that he was suppressing. And until she could feel it no longer she would never give herself to him like he wanted her.

She wants _feelings_; he wants **sex**.

What truly surprised him though was the fact that Malfoy, a heart-breaker in every meaning and use of the word, strongly believed now that his dark lord was in love with Camellia-who, Camellia! The mudblood Ravenclaw...well, apart from that fact he could truly see little fault to her, she was an attractive and smart woman even if she was a mudblood which was all in itself shocking.

But.

He'd promised himself anyway a long time ago: he wouldn't fall in love. Ever. He'd never even have any feelings of the sort to throw him off track and actually make him overlook great flaws in a person. Take Camellia for example. Both her instinct and her brain had correctly deduced he'd killed Myrtle yet she believed what he'd said only because of a grand gesture and because she **wanted** to believe him. Pathetic.

He'd never be pathetic.

So the notion he was in love with Camellia was ridiculous; he simply desired her. Malfoy thought he was in love because even if he did have the opportunity to have sex with another woman he never took advantage of it and waited thus he must be feeling something deep...laughable logic but it suited him so he didn't dare to unhinge its foundations.

The sole reasons he truly waited for Camellia was a) he was...picky. He knew it was purely physical but he only wanted to be careful who he'd be physical with. He wouldn't have sex just so he'd have sex. The woman he'd choose had to excite him enough to want to do it so bad that it hurt and so far only Camellia managed that; it wasn't his fault the rest tried nearly as hard and b)...he just knew he'd probably kill the poor bastard who'd dare to deflower her after all the time **he** had waited for that.

He didn't even have a problem with the concept of loyalty as Malfoy and Camellia had suspected; quite, the contrary: he gave it as easily as he demanded it. And if he had managed to keep it in his pants all this time Camellia was denying him any -yet she was still teasing him- then he figured keeping it in while he **was** getting some from her would be much easier...

...So he only had to hide his true intentions of wanting nothing more than to get laid and make her think he loved her. No problem, he could do that; he only needed to try harder and give it more time so it would appear natural. He was a patient man.

But he was so damn frustrated! If only could he..._rape_ her and be done with it! Why did she have to resist him so much? Why had he made that stupid oath of never harming her-he was pretty sure rape was included in hurting someone? Alright, he was overreacting -_only a little_, he mentally added- but if only he'd be forceful to her without feeling like his head split open it would be more than welcome because he **knew** should he pressure her, she'd give in. But no, he'd squeeze her wrist and he'd feel like he'd just been punched at the gut!

Fuck. He'd really have to wait for her to decide...and was it so wrong he was keeping himself with painstaking effort from having a hard-on at the thought of him sexually assaulting her?

.

.

As he walked in his dormitory-...

The light of noon came over them; they had finished the longest memory of all they had seen till this moment with nothing but mixed feelings. Each one of them felt different, maybe a little conflicted...but now they all knew why Dumbledore hadn't actually done anything to openly target or stop the young lord Voldemort during his youth: he was so good at disguising himself as a perfectly normal, _hormonal _boy, about to be an adult that no one could accuse him of anything.

Hermione was the most naive of the four; she knew this changed nothing about the man she had come to know as a muggleborns and muggles' hater that indiscriminately killed them at will -just as Harry had pointed a lot of times, before and after they started watching these memories- but she couldn't help, at the very back of her mind, look at this man in a different light. The almost earnest crush he had for Camellia that he never recognised as anything else past physical attraction and lust, she believed it could just as easily had been love but he never accepted it, he never realized what it was because he didn't want to.

.

Ron -and Harry- knew how Hermione was thinking and the former thought it was a little too forgiving; maybe she had convinced him to a certain extent that Tom's feelings for Camellia might not have been as epidermal as Voldemort had wanted them but...he was **certainly** not in love, like his wife had suggested. This was the one thing he would disagree openly and never accept about her otherwise flawless reason; he had a "boy crush" on her, it definitely didn't mean anything more. He was simply -foolishly- in lust with this apparently crazy girl. Well, she was crazy from where _he_ was standing or else she wouldn't be in love with Voldemort and neither would she accommodate his every demented and twisted need. Ironically enough, his sole twisted and demented needs she _wouldn't_ satisfy were the only ones that could be considered somewhat normal: the sexual ones...

.

Harry had no doubt: this piece of literature written by the dark lord himself was unimpeachably proof to the sinister and wild nature of the man behind the name; even if Voldemort came so close to another human being, he never saw or understood the feeling of love; the emotion it causes; the elation of the heart when your special someone says they love you back.  
_He never did and he never tried,_ thought Harry grudgingly as he realized that in all these memories not once did the girl treat him wrong...well, there were some cases where he'd say she was being abusive but she only did that because she knew how Tom was. No, he held no longer a second thought: Tom Marvolo Riddle was impermeable to positive emotions. This proved, showed and accentuated it at the same time. And Harry suddenly felt incredibly sorry for this girl who'd die, or whatever her fate, believing he loved her.

.

Ginny was somewhere in the middle; she was once upon a time taken in by this man herself to know what a silver-tongued, eloquent bastard he could be, so naturally she could have the most accurate impression of the four. She had experienced his persuasion skills first hand and what she had to say was definitely not good.

But in this "relationship" she saw here, despite the obvious manipulation and abuse, there was also something quite...pure she felt from him. Sure, Camellia wasn't **possessed** like she was thus it was bound to look far better than how he used Ginny yet there was also a subtle concern, a _care_, Tom demonstrated when matters linked to her emerged. He'd actually be breaking a sweat on thinking how to keep her away from his vultures of death eaters; he even made an oath to keep her eternally safe!

Now Tom could say whatever the bloody hell he wanted on why he'd done that but it appeared that he was unconsciously controlling himself in advance: Ginny thought the fifth-year Tom knew what he'd be in his...let's say seventh-year thus he felt he had to protect her from his own self. His motivation was his concern for her; now why he was concerned she attributed to the facts they were childhood friends, she was attractive and a very interesting woman so he felt he should...preserve her.

...Or maybe he just enjoyed her ministrations. Also, she was his controller so as long as they were in school she should be able to moderate him to never exceed the limit set by Dumbledore. Like that murder. If she recalled correctly it happened in a period he was in bad terms with the girl. And she did offer the best coverage ever. Being so tight with a muggleborn certainly lands you in the "muggle-lovers" list whilst your true intentions are not revealed.

No matter what, they knew two things: he didn't love her but whatever it was he felt for her -and why-, he never realized it. He only thought she was his favourite pastime, his pet, his little puppet; his little puppet that he harboured "romantic" feelings for -meaning he wanted to bed her.

'I prefer seeing Voldemort like this; feels kind of something I can actually relate to.'

'...well, you hooked up with Lavender that year out of nothing but mere sexual frustration so I guess you **do** know...'

Ginny's emotionless comment caught all of them so off guard that the violent blush that crept to their cheeks was five seconds too late. It was sort of a taboo subject between the two spouses; after Hermione pocked a lot of fun out of it, Ron had finally decided to ban it. He had felt horrible he did something like that to her on the first place but the way she'd taken it _then_ and how she took it afterwards...were both painful. So he had begged her to stop.

To her credit, she never brought it up at moments when she knew it would hurt; when they fought she'd never snap it to him as an argument and she'd bring it up only when she was teasing him about something.

Thus the never-ending purple that now adorned their faces, especially Ron's, was completely justified.

Hermione smothered a laugh yet a stung cough while Harry thought he should quiet this one out...as did all. 'I was different Ginny!' eventually the indignant -and shameful- brother snubbed seeing his sister's expectant stare 'I was merely...stupid! He wasn't! He was everything but!'

'Which is why he waits for her.' Hermione spat; well, she couldn't deny that this topic brought negative feelings and in all sincerity the mere mention had panged at her heart.

'...this conversation is not beneficiary for anyone-not to mention it's highly counterproductive; why don't we just go to the next memory so we can pretend this never happened _easier_?'

'Why not?' Hermione agreed before anyone else could say anything-more accurately before Ginny denies it and reprimands her brother a little more; she didn't actually mind being supported but this was always a sour memory.

'Hey, why don't we go to the seventh-year directly?' Ron suggested out of the blue, feeling like he had to say something else before diving in; they all looked at him in a different way, other than surprised: Hermione's look was a little scolding, Ginny's a little impressed while Harry's nothing but eager.

'I second that!' Harry and Ginny exclaimed simultaneously.

'Wh-?' Hermione looked at Ginny with the utmost hurt at her "betrayal" but shook her head nevertheless 'but there are great memories in the rest of the sixth year! We get to see Camellia admitting to coming up with a very powerful and complicated variation of a transforming spell-a spell for which even to this day she remains unaccredited! She shows us the infirmary from the inside-!'

Harry cut her off all too indelicately -earning a glare but apparently he was uncaring- 'Does anything else important happen between them during sixth year?'

'Well...no...'

Ron pitched in, helping his friend. 'Anything indicative of their relationship?'

'...no...'

'Then let's just go to the next year! It should be fun!' Ginny said excitedly; truly, it was her favourite Hogwarts year as far as Hermione had narrated -that she had narrated everything- so she couldn't wait to go to the first seventh year memory!

Hermione sighed 'Oh fine...' she gave in finally and reluctantly put the memory she had readied in its place and took out the one everyone apparently wanted. 'But you know, if lord bloody-Voldemort put this in here then he must have been-!'

'-as much of a bookworm as you which is true, we admit.' Harry commented, earning chuckles from everyone who was not Hermione. The latter simply put her nose up high, undid the pouch and poured the memory in. 'Before we dive, I want you all to know that this next memory was extracted-'

They dived in completely ignoring her...

'-by Camellia. Tch, bastards.'

She dived in finally.

=:=:=:=:=

Camellia was heading to Tom's dormitory to wait for him; ever since he became a Head Boy he had his own private quarters separate from all the other students that he shared with none other but the Head Girl, a very kind, ingenious Hufflepuff named Lucinda Irons.

Lucinda was a bright, hard-working and diligent student who was entitled more than any other girl to the position that year, mainly due to the fact she had won a personal bet with professor Dippet: if she managed to get the highest marks in all of the subjects he'd selected for her then her dream of becoming Head Girl -without ever being a prefect- would be a reality. And she did: she had framed her brown round eyes with her glasses; she'd pulled her short-ish black hair into a messy ponytail; she'd rolled up her sleeves and before anyone knew it, she excelled in all of the requested subjects...!

Thus now she is the Head Girl, along with Tom.

...and had Tom not been constantly pestering Camellia with this story ever since the beginning of their final year -ever since he got the badge, to be completely honest- then she wouldn't have remembered it as well as she did now...but clearly this was a new form of torture for her, she gathered, as every now and then he would recite Lucinda's "trials" to her out of sheer indignation that Camellia never learnt and never studied thus she lost the right to become Head Girl with him and have their own private room, away from everyone else. Camellia of course could not see why he'd be feeling mad she didn't make it since they already had a personal space -the Room of Requirement- and even there, nothing really ever happened -save a few fights here and there-. So, since they weren't even dating, she failed to see reason behind his behaviour...

But now that she finally reached the dormitory she could feel the sting of regulated guilt at her heart while she looked around it: the shared space that existed between the two bedrooms was very beautiful and cosy and had it not been intended for the two Head prefects -because that was what they really were- to inhabit, it could easily have been assumed a separate house altogether.

Yes, she would have enjoyed living in there indeed...but the sacrifice was too dear to make: she would never ever be a diligent student, either that rewarded her with her own private quarters or not!

But then she noticed something on the couch that _**she**_ usually lounged on...it was occupied! And none other than the golden mane of a certain seventh-year Slytherin stuck out from it, always well-groomed and tidy while it moved ever so slightly left and right. He must have been reading something, _which is why he paid no attention to the creaking door as it opened, _with the password Tom had supplied her with she mused.  
She smirked; now was the best opportunity to scare the living lights out of him as she always wanted, now that Tom was not there -or else he'd be with Malfoy- and that Lucinda was nowhere to be seen, too.

She approached noiselessly, creeping on the tips of her toes, and snack behind him; as she reached him, she suddenly bent low -yet always trying not to make the slightest sound- and hid herself behind the couch in a way that only her head would be protruding. She held her breath as she watched what he was doing: he was indeed reading-he was reading his charms textbook absorbed and it was clear to the girl he hadn't even suspected her of coming in. She gave a wicked smile; this would be fun...

Slowly, her one hand shifted from her side to Malfoy's face without it falling into his field of vision-at least not until the time was right; she hesitated for a moment, held back to muster the correct amount of breath -always fighting with herself not to laugh- and then...

'_Abraxas_...' whispered she in an almost eerie voice; her index traced Malfoy from the nape of his neck all the way down to his collarbone and chest with studied featheriness.

Abraxas broke out in shivers and moaned; involuntarily, he tilted his head where she'd touched him, even trapping her hand for a moment before he finally realized what was happening...  
When he did, his eyes snapped wide open and immediately retracted himself away from whoever it was that was doing such a thing to him -he wiped his head to her infuriated- and as soon as his eyes met with hers, he was plainly shocked.

But not more shocked than she was...

'Oh. My. God.'

That was all she could say before she started laughing; she fell on her knees and laughed harder-she was unable to support herself any longer. Trying to control her cackling but deemed herself failed to the task, as she held on her belly she fought her hardest not to roll on the floor.

'Shut up! Shut _**up**_! Stop laughing, damn it! You filthy mudblood stop that annoying cackling right now!' Mortally embarrassed, Abraxas kept glancing around to see if anyone would come through either door.

'Ha ha -oh my God- ha, ha –I can't believe you- ha, ha -you physically- ha -shuddered t-to...' she couldn't stop laughing.

He became even redder. 'Shut your trap and get up from the bloody-floor!'

'You, you...' she laughed 'ah...' she took deep breaths and eventually managed to level her breathing. 'Ah...' she lay flat on her back on the marble floor -one of the few spots that there was no carpet- and let the feel of the cold material relax her.

'Get up Adams now-before anyone comes in and-!'

'-what? See me lying on the floor and wishes to inquire as to why I would be doing such a thing and I respond to them with the truth and you feel like a complete idiot?'

'...yes that.' he barked behind clenched teeth, his fists curled into balls.

'I can see why you'd be anxious...' jeered she yet did not make him the favour of getting up. 'I mean, honestly, what was that? You physically _trembled_.' He looked at her with the utmost hate and disgust but she didn't stop -or care-; instead, she continued with what she was saying from her spot on the white marbles. 'Ho-ho-ho, this will be a good thing to reveal to Jules-I'll tell her if she ever wants to get you in the "mood" all she has to do is' she played with her fingers in midair for effect 'caress you on your side. Ha-ha-ha!'

He was mortified. 'You'll do no such thing! She and I will do whatever we want but most certainly not because you said so! And gerroff the fucking floor now!' he bellowed frenetically in the end, and dared to grab her wrists and pull her up with force! He'd put up with her flippant actions no longer.

Surprisingly, she felt like a rag doll in his hands as she showed no resistance and obediently did as he motioned, a very strange feeling to get from this woman; as soon as she was standing once again though, she stared at him deeply into his eyes, a mischievous grin carving her face.

She was determined to milk this since it presented itself so nicely... 'And what will you do for me in exchange in order not to reveal this very important piece of information to my best friend Jules who happens to have no secrets from me whatsoever?'

'...What could you possibly want from me? I am more than willing to give you money but I have a very bad gut-feeling that this is the last thing you require from me...'

Her eyes shone; her grin became a simper; he sighed. 'Precisely.'

'Bloody hell.'

.

.

.

'And up; and down! And up; and down! And up; and down! And down-I said down' Malfoy protested as he hit her head 'and down; and down-!'

'Hey-don't mess up the sequence!' complained the girl, her knees bent, sitting low but without an actual chair, her hands stretched out in front of her.

'But that is the point of this exercise: obedience and good reflexes; you have to do exactly what I'm telling you _even_ if I ruin the sequence-you always have to be vigilant!'

'Look, you are not preparing me for a brawl; I merely want to know how I go wrong in that bloody-possessive spell...so why am I stuck in this physical exercise?'

He hit her straight on the head with another chop; 'Ouch!' she complained and rubbed it to soothe the pain...but he hit her again, this once on her hand.

'Don't stray from your exercise!' he stated absolute; she was the one who asked for his help after all and as such she should abide by his rules and his way of doing things-she had no right to complain about the physical aspect of his training. Besides, this was how Tom, his very master, had taught him to do this spell and he was amongst the best in performing it. She had no authority to question him.

She huffed; 'fine' she grumped and took her stance again.

She had no idea why she was doing this but if this enabled Malfoy to perform better then she was definite it would do the same -if not more- for her, too. Yes, she was a proud and stubborn woman and she really wanted to learn this spell because, considering all the anti-muggle movements going on around Hogwarts -or even within it-, it would be a useful shield...well, a bit more on the offensive to be considered as a shield but then again the best defence is always a good offense; she was the first one to support that.

'And up and down; and up and up;' he hit her because she failed to go up 'and up and down; and up and down; and up and up; and up and down; and down and down...! Hey this is great! You finally managed not to get confused! Nice, you do it again and this is over; and up and down; and up and down; and down and down and down; and up and up and up...Great, this part is over! Now stand up' She did it quietly to his surprise; _she must really want to know this spell_, he thought 'and let's go to the next part: practise.'

'Practise?'

'Practise. Now, I'll try to possess you; if I succeed then you receive penalty; if I don't, you receive a treat.'

She considered. 'But this holds no real risk to you; why should I comply?'

He smirked; she was very observant. 'Heh, good job in noticing it -you'd do great in business- but I'm afraid it is of no consequence; you are the one who has to know the spell, not I, so why should there be penalty to me? Should you learn to do it and we have a real duel then I have no problem...not that you'll be able to beat me of course, but let's get to it.'

Grudgingly, she realized it all made sense; but that last bit made her angry, as it touched her ego streaks; who did he think he was and he though she wouldn't be able to repel him even once?

'Tell you what Malfoy; if you manage to possess me even once, even this first time, I'll do anything you want-one thing, but anything. If you don't then **you**'ll have to do that one thing...what about it?'

'...Why would I ever do that?'

'Oh? Are you saying you can't possess me even once?' challenged Camellia.

He rolled his eyes worn-off 'oh please! I just have no intention of making a deal with a mudblood.'

Even if the title stung her she'd learnt long ago to not pay any mind to it; instead she switched to another approach. 'The howls of a sore loser is all I hear from where I'm standing.'

He didn't want to admit it, but that annoyed him. 'Then you should have your ears checked; or it may just be the low point of your stature.'

She chuckled; she hated to think it, but what he said was actually funny. Yet it didn't stop her-nothing ever did if she wanted something really bad and right now she wanted one certain thing... 'But what would Tom say if I told him that you refused a simple test of skills with me I wonder...?' she added those last two words in the end purposefully, her tone mellow-unfittingly mellow...

Malfoy gulped; whenever a person coloured their voice with that tone, they knew they had the other party in the palm of their hands-he'd learnt that much from Tom and this case was the same: she knew he'd give in. 'Alright; but -in the off chance I lose- I won't do anything of the sort of kissing y-AH!'

She'd thrown his book at him and it hit with painful precision; he covered himself, waiting for more...that never came. When he looked up she was smirking. 'Let's just get this over with...coward.'

.

.

.

It was twelve to nine, their score that is, and she was the one who was losing; great, now she had to do one thing that annoying pureblood loving git would tell her; she hadn't seen herself losing but in her defence the eight out of the twelve times he won they were the first! And now she was rapidly catching up...but she still had to do that one thing!

On the upside, she was starting to get the hang of both how to counter this spell and how to produce it; she'd rather eat dirt than say it out loud but Abraxas Malfoy did have a clue on what he was doing.

'Concentrate on the movement of your wrist and forget the tip of the wand-it'll follow; now repeat after me-'

'For the umpteenth time, I don't have to say it out loud!'

'-then brandish your wand...' he waited for her to imitate him 'and whip it!'

They whipped their wands simultaneously yet again; but this was the first time her spell reached her before his! He froze up completely and a blank stare replaced his burning one...she swished the wand and the light came back into his eyes.

'_Woo_-_**hoo**_!' exclaimed she as she jumped up and down. 'Yes! I did it! I did it!' she continued, going to him and grabbing his hands. 'I finally did it: I managed to successfully cast the possessive spell! Thank you so much for your help insufferable pureblood-loving git!' she finished and let his hands drop -just as he was about to slap them away-.

'...a "Malfoy" would be nice every once in a while Adams...' snapped he in distaste... 'But you're welcome, annoying mudblood hag.' he finished with a pleasant yet poisonous tone, nothing even remotely close to her over-joyous squeal.

'Ah, you're actually proud of me, aren't you-being your student and everything?' she probed with her elbow and gave him a pointed yet playful look 'C'mon, smile a little.'

'I have no reason to.'

Behind his absolute exterior she could detect a little crack in his voice that threatened to show a smile...she kept staring expectantly at him; he rolled his eyes, giving in once more. 'Fine; but only a little.' He mumbled as a smiled started forming; she returned it tenfold and that only made him smile more, too. 'And if I'm smiling is because I am too great of a teacher that even a mudblood -even if hitherto has proven herself smart-' he hastily added seeing Camellia roll up her sleeve threateningly 'can understand a complicated spell such as the one I showed you. Aren't I great?'

'Aren't you self-centred?' she countered amused. 'Either way, do tell what you want because I fear Tom will be coming soon-he's been late as it is!' _and __**I **__will be the one who will be staying with him this once_, she completed in her head.

'Hum...well, let's see...you can always make sure Jules and I have a great start-after all we have just started dating _because of you_' and he didn't mean it in a good way 'so make sure you tell her the best for me.'

'What...? You can't expect me to lie to my best friend yet again because you are a self-absorbed wanker, do you?'

He fired up immediately; he couldn't believe he thought of trusting a mudblood to her word no matter who she was! His father was right, they were all liars. 'You promised...!' he protested darkly, his finger pointing in a very accusing manner; she gulped.

'...alright; but only for once-twice tops _if you do something praiseworthy_...'

'You won't go back on your word, filthy mudblood!'

'I won't; I'll talk to her nicely about you a little but that's it. You can't expect me to go against my own ethics and beliefs just because you won a stinking bet, do you? Huh! Purebloods, thinking they can change people's lives just because they woke up on the wrong side of the bed.'

'I trusted your mudblood arse so you shan't let me down; heh, mudbloods, good-for-nothing vermin-!'

.

She had it up till **here** with his insults; she may not have been one who would give a lot of attention to that word but he kept calling her like that all the time, being in her face so she wouldn't stand for it any longer! 'I may be a mudblood sir but if I'm not mistaken half an hour ago you were shaking like a leaf-'

'So fucking what?' he cut her off immediately, obviously touchy to the subject. 'It wasn't because of _you_ but because of what you _did_-besides you caught me off guard! If it weren't for that then I wouldn't even move-humph, from the touch of a mudblood, the nerve of you!'

She saw that as a challenge; from her furious glare she changed to a mild suggestive stare. 'Oh really? So if I were to do it again you wouldn't be affected?' she asked naturally but went closer to him with slow suggestive slops.

He hesitated...and then backed up a little.

'Of course.' he replied unaffected.

'You mean if I did it again...'

And she did, excruciatingly slow. He tried not to react, but it was beyond his powers.

'...ah, see? You shivered again.'

'Stop.' he said decisively. 'Don't do that.'

As he tried to stop her hand, she elegantly slipped it out of his grip and continued moving forward as he continued backing up; yet she never was less than two inches away from him.

'But I thought you said you'd be alright if I didn't catch you off guard; oh, is that it? Well then a warning sounds fair: I'm doing it.' She did it again, her advance halted only during that short period of time. 'Oh look at that-you shook again.'

'I said stop.' He wasn't as sure this once; he was looking away, avoiding her gaze. 'Don't touch me that way.'

'Oh that's how it is now? What, you'll change your opinion every ten seconds? Heh, fine; I won't do it again...'

* * *

'What is she doing?' Harry asked half-wondered half-suspicious.

'I think she's trying to prove to him she can seduce him, besides being a mudblood...' Hermione explained.

* * *

He wanted to keep her at bay, stop her from touching him-to push her and make her fall on her face...but he couldn't. He didn't really know if he wanted it and couldn't or if he could but didn't want to...but he didn't care to find out.  
After all it had been a long time -for his standards- that any woman touched him like that...

But he didn't expect her to do something so forward: she let her fingertips ran down his body, the shirt proving a very poor defence -his robes long discarded-, while she came even closer; he backed up as much as he could but he hit the wall. Heh, he should have known, he never really learnt to mind his surroundings...when he was finally immobilized she wasted no time: she smirked and pushed herself against him. But not her whole body, just those parts that stuck out: her boobs...that he couldn't help but stare. This was so embarrassing! And dangerous if one thought that Tom could come back at any moment. But he didn't really care, he realized with a mixture of horror yet admiration, as his blood was flowing to all the right-well, wrong, considering who this person was, places to think reasonably.

'Abraxas dear, no need to be so scared...I'm just a _mudblood_ anyway...' she continued, surprisingly sweet yet seductively. 'You like it don't you' _pervert_ 'so why don't you just say so? I promise I'll stop then...'

He still didn't speak, refusing to give in; he caught himself thinking that should Tom walk in now he's **dead** yet at the same time he realized that **that** wasn't what bothered him, but the idea he'd be _interrupting_ them. What was she doing to him? Could she be bewitching him? No way, it was all because of her big boobs -the cow- that pressed against him so suffocatingly...

He shivered again, every hair on him standing straight; this was too much for him to endure: he hadn't had sex even before he started going out with Jules -two months and counting- he knew he wouldn't have sex for at least another and Camellia was still pressing her boobs against him, as her hand caressed and excited him at the same time. How much more can a man endure? Well, he didn't know the answer to that rhetorical question but he knew the answer when it came to him: no more.

He grabbed her, completely out of control and before he knew it...

* * *

'Oh. My. God.' Harry recited shocked.

'He's kissing her...!' Ginny followed right in cue; Hermione might have told her everything about Tom and Camellia but she never bothered with details or asking about other people...apparently she should have. This certainly was a detail but...what a detail! Wow! A Malfoy kissing a mudblood?

Ron was too shocked to say anything. So he just stared.

'But wait a minute...Isn't Malfoy dating Jules? Are they cheating on her-and I say "they" because isn't she supposed to be her best friend?' Harry asked surprisingly insightfully and sensitive. Heh, he always has known such duty-oriented ethics!

'Well...yes...but you'll see!' was all Hermione said, even if Ron had snapped his eyes wide open at Harry's comment, finding himself more than agreeable.

* * *

'Humph!' was all the reaction she could muster: his lips crushed violently against hers while he pushed forward, ungluing himself from the wall and gluing himself on her...with such force that both fell on the floor. Camellia skilfully managed to twirl him around and made him fall on his back yet all the while she was frantically trying to pull away.  
Protesting wordlessly -she'd love to produce sound but it's impossible to form words without use of the tongue and the bastard was keeping hers busy- she even tried kicking or punching at times but his grip was damn firm...he'd practically latched onto her! And considering she was on top it was not easy to hit him where it counted.

But in all fairness he was a damn-good kisser, she'd have to tell Jules.

.

.

The moment passed; after he'd senselessly kissed her, forgetting even Tom might walk in on them momentarily, and before the kiss got too heated, he realized what the hell he was doing...and he froze completely. He let go of her and not too gently pushed her off of him so that he could breathe again!

But Camellia spoke first. 'What the bloody-hell is wrong with you Malfoy? Your tongue...was in my mouth!'

He looked disgusted and tried to make himself cough. 'You think I wanted to snog you-you think I'd want my tongue-...ugh!' he was about to puke, coughing and coughing and looking all the more disgusted as seconds went by.

'What the blazes is wrong with you-kissing me even if it's making you sick-...? Hey, wait-I'm not that bad!'

He knelt 'No' he coughed, grabbing his stomach 'you actually aren't' he said with shocked realization 'but-you don't understand...I snogged a _mudblood_ who just happens to be' he coughed again 'Tom's-...I will' he coughed but now it started subsiding 'die a horrible death for this...please don't tell him. Don't tell anyone!'

'...Only if you say please...!' she chuckled, having a realization. 'But if you knew all these yet you kissed me, just how long has it been since the last time you had-...?'

But the joke died in her throat.

She'd bent to help that sorry excuse of a man to his feet and she happened to brush against his back...and she was more than shocked by the sensation that hit her hand: even if his shirt was dry and spotless-looking she had the feel she just touched something wet. And then she realized: it was the same feeling she got when grooming Tom's injured hand! There was blood under his shirt! But why would there be blood...?

Malfoy might have been a lot of things but he was no simpleton, Camellia gathered, for as soon as her laugh died so abruptly upon touching his back he immediately figured out why -correctly- and stood himself up, suddenly sober. If that was the case and he even stopped himself from coughing -that was a completely natural response to him- then it only meant what was on his back was bigger than his belief in blood-purity and his friend's anger...something important that may be scaring him even. She needed to know what it was.

'Malfoy...' she drawled.

'Adams...' he followed her example; and the backing-up/advancing had begun once more: he was retracting while she was chasing.

He didn't know how much she realized but he bet she knew something. And now she wanted to know but she was not supposed to know and if she did...well, let's just say it'd be better for him if Tom had caught them snogging. So he had to protect his secret at all costs.

'Abraxas dear...'

'Camellia darling...'

'Let me see your back please!' she shouted and sprang on him!

He was taken completely by surprise, but managed to escape her grip, causing her to fall flat on her face; he fought his first instinct to laugh at her and then his second to check up on her -she **was** a woman after all- and merely stood a little further away...but she didn't give up! She raised her head and when she saw he was within arm-range he grabbed his foot and pulled him!

He lost his balance and fell down with her.

'Now I have you! Take your shirt off!' said she in a triumphant cry.

She tried to make him undress but he resisted. 'No!'

She mounted him. 'I said take it off!'

She kept trying to strip his torso naked -cause if he knew Malfoy he would never wear an undershirt to cover his "manly chest" since he took his shirt off only in front of women or friends-.

'I want to keep my shirt on, why can't you respect that?' he resisted yet again, neutralizing all of her attempts with great effort; he would have never expected things to turn out that way...

'There's nothing to respect-take it off now! Aren't you the one who's always bragging about those muscles of yours? Well I want to see them! Those and your back!'

'If you want to see my muscles is fine-!'

They both stopped fighting as they heard a familiar sound: the sound of the door clicking open after the password was given...they froze, both their hearts racing; as the door opened the person who came into view was...

.

.

'Ah! Lucinda! It's just you...' Malfoy said relieved, finally breathing again.

The girl was left staring at them though.

.

.

When Malfoy spoke and the two of them gave a tension-relieving laugh, Lucinda recommenced walking to her room, yet looking at the odd couple on the floor all the while, her eyes wide and her mouth shut.

'Luce, I know how this looks but it isn't like that.' Camellia tried to explain but the girl only intensified her staring.

'I heard you telling him to take his shirt off to look at his _bare body_ and him complaining that you _don't respect him_ while you're on top of him trying to strip him...' said Lucinda with surprising apathy; the two felt sweat running down their temples.

But she shouldn't falter now and let her think all sorts of bad things about them! After all, none of it would be true and what was more she actually liked the girl so she didn't want to appear like a complete harlot to her. 'Then it is exactly what it looks like' she said, never losing her humour 'but not **for** what you think.' She hastened to amend the situation. 'I am really not interested in him or anything and he is my best friend's boyfriend-!' shoot, she was only making things worse!

'...Just don't let Tom see you; he'll be heartbroken over it...' Lucinda continued still apathetic.

Camellia felt very ashamed. She knew Lucinda would never gossip but that was all the more reason to like her and want to explain things to her. And this last bit made her feel like she had done something wrong even if she hadn't! Well, she did feel bad about being a tease to her best friend's boyfriend but that was for another time. Oh no! She was a horrible person!

'Wait! I swear, I'll explain everything to you; just don't hate me until you hear me out, OK?'

Lucinda hesitated... 'Fine; I'll be waiting...'

And she disappeared behind her bedroom door.

'Now look what you've done!' Camellia complained as soon as Lucinda was inside and she had casted a muffliato charm on herself and Malfoy.

'What _I'_ve done-you were the one who was **riding** me!'

She cast him a murderous look. 'And if I was riding you it's your fault for not showing me your back! Show me you back!'

'No!'

'Oh is that how you want it? Fine then-take this!'

She flicked her wand and a whipping sound was heard; then, like someone pulling it off, his shirt fell shredded to pieces on the marble floor...

He was left shocked; how did he not see this happen? He hurried to take cover but his surprise cost him valuable time that she took advantage of; she found herself behind him before he even managed to dart.

...She finally took a good look at his back...

* * *

**A/N**: Ho ho ho! A tiny cliffhanger! What could be on his back that's so shocking? Review/message!


	27. Confrontations

**A/N**:I just realized something; having preprepared chapters is fun! :3 you get to update much faster and you get to plan out the next ones better!

Now back to where we were and time for more Malfoy...just because I can! So off we go from where we left off -and yes, too much "off" in this sentence- xD

* * *

Camellia was left staring. Her chin hung; her eyes became unnaturally wide.

This was the first time she saw such an extensive deliberately-made wound: the most of Malfoy's back was "adorned" with a huge S-shaped creepily detailed snake, that even bore eyes, malignant and piercing. Its tongue was out, hissing an inaudible but terrible sound that she could hear even if it wasn't there; it rang like nails on a blackboard. She shuddered; she felt like the snake's eyes were watching and reporting she witnessed its presence to someone...but whom? Who'd do such a thing to Malfoy...?

But the first name that came to mind she knew it was also the answer immediately: that snake was curved by none other than Tom. She knew not why, but she had the terrible feeling that her foreboding was true-none other than him who would ever dare to do such a thing to** the** Abraxas Malfoy. She suddenly felt revolted, too -as if Malfoy's previous wishes passed on to her-; she held on to her stomach with one hand while with the other she covered her mouth. 'What the bloody-hell did he do to you? Why?' she asked as she managed to control her urges to puke.

He hastily put his robes back on, fearing someone else coming in more than alarmed. 'Who do you mean "he" -?'

She raised her hand to stop him. 'You and I both know whom I'm speaking of so if you'd just tell me-!'

'You don't know what you're asking! Stop questioning me.'

After a lot of thought, she chose a different approach. '...why hasn't he healed it yet?'

'...because this way I will be reminded of my sin...'

She gaped; now she was certain. 'H-he's mental!'

'No he's not! I don't care whatever you say nor can I tell you why this happened; it were my fault it did anyway s-.'

'Are you serious? This is by no chance your fault-he carved a huge snake on your back! And I can bet my right hand on this: he definitely did not use his wand to do it-this was made by that gothic-looking knife of his, I'm certain!' stated she absolute, battling with herself not to grab Malfoy from the collar and shake him.

He though now was shocked.

'H-how do you know about the knife?'

'Have you noticed the huge scar on his palm? Why do you think it's there?'

'You mean you know _why_ it's there?' he asked immediately suspicious, trying to distract her.

'...you mean _you _don't? He hasn't told you?' she echoed in the same tone.

They both looked at one another with their eyes narrowed.

'...what the bloody-hell...did _you_ stab-?'

'What! I'd never do that to anyone! I was just...there when it happened!' she felt shame rising to her cheeks; if Tom hadn't told him that scar was a blood-oath between them then should she tell him what had happened...? She knew not why but the fact he had kept it a secret was both flattering to her because it felt like this was their own personal secret convent yet on the other hand it seemed annoying because she felt that he was ashamed of it...and she hated that thought.

'Oh? And how did it happen then?'

'If he didn't tell you then I won't be telling you, too; you're not telling me about that scar on your back so why should I satisfy your curiosity?'

'Wh-...you're evil d'you know that? Tch, I bet that is why Tom likes you!'

She fumed...but then reconsidered. Oh is this how he wanted to play it? Fine then... 'Well I don't know about you but if I were you and he'd actually drew a snake _with a knife_ on my back for God knows what then I'd definitely wouldn't want to be here half-naked when he comes back...'

Like making a profound discovery Malfoy's eyes snapped open and stared at her 'oh my God you are right! Fine; I'm going this once but next time I win. Give Tom my regards and let him know I'll see him tomorrow morning.'

And with that, he left the room in extreme hurry, keeping his robes closed in front of his now bare chest.

She shook her head; she couldn't understand him: if Tom did this to him -and now she was certain he had- then why in earth would Malfoy want to still be around him? What was it that kept those two united? Why would he put up with an act that clearly violates many laws-and what was so important that Tom had to resort to such ways in order to give Malfoy a lesson? What had happened between the two anyway and why Tom used such cruel methods to establish himself...?

She was in deep thought; she'd always had many conflicting feelings about Tom and how he behaved and maybe, even if she never admitted it, she always knew there was a darker side to him, that little that's beyond what meets the eye but she had buried it deep inside her, pretending it wasn't there or at least dominant. When he had killed his father and grandparents even he deemed it a fit of absolute and transient hatred and by all means she could even understand why he did what he did but this...this was different. And she much feared that this was her doing, too considering what Malfoy'd said: this sounded exactly what she'd told him when he'd stabbed his hand for her...heh, these two incidents were connected even after two years-all things considered then she might as well have told Malfoy about it since it actually mattered in his case.

* * *

'Camellia you're alone...Where is Abraxas?'

She hadn't realized when he'd come in -perfect irony, remembering how she crept up on Malfoy- and she was startled to find him there in front of her, looking at and around her bewilder as to where Malfoy might have gone off to...how could he appear so normal and absent-minded when he'd done such a horrible thing! And that only led her to the even more horrible thought of how much more terrible things had he done and she had known nothing about...she felt a lump at her throat but not -exclusively- out of fear, but out of indignation.

'Said he'll see you tomorrow morning...let's go upstairs and talk shall we?' she managed to string together; she'd have said more but the righteous anger swelling up inside her -even for the sake of Malfoy of all people- prevented her from saying anything more or else she'd be swearing.  
And she didn't want that.  
Not here.

'O...K?'

That was the first time he noticed something going wrong with her; he deemed her curt -not warm to say the least- behaviour rather odd or even unnatural but he didn't inquire any further as he saw she was rather testy. Even her tone was edgy.

She needn't telling twice of course, she immediately stood up and led the way to his room; surprised by her sudden yet sharp movements he said nothing, didn't protest or even motioned in an opposite direction and simply followed her to his own room. Well, that sounded weird in his head...

The door closed...

As soon as the click was heard it felt like he was bracing himself: the calm before the storm. He had no idea as to why she'd be like this -when he'd left her three hours ago they were _laughing_- but he had a very bad hunch it had something to do with Malfoy being absent even if he had explicitly asked him to come for a certain matter. He only hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

He busied himself, trying to shake off that very odd feeling of foreshadowing; he turned around, his back facing her. 'Mind waiting a bit? These robes feel heavy. No need to leave, of course...'

'Ah of course dear; I'm just going to stand here, watching your back-and what a nice back it is: big broad shoulders, beautiful manly shaped but most importantly...wound-free.'

He knew this would end badly from the moment she spoke sweet words, seductive even, with such an irked undertone. And of course she kept the best for last: the finisher. Bloody hell...

But hang on...this only meant she somehow knew about Abraxas! But how? She was not supposed to know, no one was, he had strictly forbidden him from ever saying anything to anyone about it so, assuming the extreme circumstance he hadn't spoken, then it only meant...he was naked in front of her? Why!

.

He sighed; time to play stupid...

As he made the effort of turning around though- 'Don't bother _**darling**_; I'll talk to you after I have calmed down at least a little or else the whole school will hear us-or you'll get many bruises!' snarled Camellia.

Before he knew it, she'd disappeared behind the door. Did this mean that he had to chase after her or something of the sort?

He sighed again. 'Camellia wait-...!'

But she really had disappeared; where did she go? This was the first time she vanished so quickly. Of course that only meant one thing: she was very angry.  
And that definitely did not help his situation.

But most importantly, he had to run after her but he had no idea where she'd gone...so he figured he'd do something different: he didn't have to run after her but simply go to a place where he knew he would find her...her bedroom! For once he felt that his unique ability of sneaking into the girls' dormitory was less perverted and much handier than he'd originally thought.

Without a second's hesitation he headed to the Ravenclaw dormitory -the girls' wing in particular-; of course the fact her room was the one at the furthest and highest peak of the tower was problematic but it was high time he put his invisibility skills to the test.

.

.

.

'Huff!'

He heard her heave a tired sigh as she shut the wooden heavy door of her bedroom; he'd been patiently waiting for her arrival carefully hidden behind the curtains of Camellia's bed -as the invisibility spell he had casted on himself had worn off after two hours- and as the third hour had passed sometime ago he thanked his luck that she came alone as he could hear none other's than Camellia's footsteps.

From her shuffling and constant sighing he realized she was not only exhausted but also deeply troubled -and angry for hich he was sure he was the cause -; also, the last thing he realized by the sounds she was making was that she was undressing...

When he made sure she was _**in**_decent enough, his head cocked from behind the drapes and said a cheerful 'Cheerio.' that scared her out of her wits -and shirt, as it fell off her shoulders despite her brave attempt at holding it there-.

'Oh my fucking God! Tom! What the bloody-hell-' she went for her skirt to cover herself -he saw her panties though- 'how d'you; oh you did not!' said she shocked, noticing he was watching her with extraneous detail -detail she knew his mind had the ability to hold- and then she almost screamed, hitting him with the skirt she was to put on. 'Get out of here!'

'You do realize you're still in your underwear and I can still see everything right?' and also he established that red really was the devil's colour as her underwear were right now and it was all he could see...

'UGH!' she twirled around in the drape while still hitting him with the skirt. 'If you ever dare say this to anyone I'll kill-...wait what the hell are you doing in here, how did you get in here, you're not supposed to...?' she asked more than suspicious and ready to murder Jules or Andria who were her roommates that she immediately suspected of letting him in...

He stood up and pranced around. 'Let's just say I have my ways...'

'I'd like to know **who** these ways are so I can take care of them...' said she darkly, grabbing a sheet from her bed to cover herself with anew. 'Now leave my room.'

He appeared confused. 'But you're the one who said we should talk later; now **is** later...' said he silkily and shrugged; she could even smell the arrogance in him...tch, petty bastard, trapping her with words.

'...Fine; let's talk. Will you please tell me what possessed you to carve an "S"-shaped snake on poor Malfoy's back' she snorted 'and if I'm calling Malfoy "poor" you know how unbelievably mad I am!'

'...'

He said nothing; instead he grew very serious very abruptly and looked away. She didn't know why but she felt a cold wind sweeping in and wiping every part of her body inside out. She shuddered.

'That is none of your business.' said he in the end with extreme apathy just to scare her away from the subject; originally he wouldn't have spoken at all but her unfaltering -even if a little disheartened- probing glare left him with no other choice.

Strangely though, he had the exact opposite of the desired effect: she fired up anew!

'Oh is that so? Because tormenting a person with a method I fear I taught you I believe it **is** my business!'

'A method you taught me...?'

She snorted again 'Malfoy said this snake wasn't healed immediately in order for him to be taught his place since every time he'll be looking at it he'd remember to keep his word-_sounds familiar_?'

'...Oh alright; I admit you gave me an idea, I just didn't want to burden you with such guilt.'

Suddenly she felt worse...but then she realized! 'Hey! What are you on about? It's not my fault you're a sadistic prat-'

'It was your idea you know, so practically you're the sadist.'

'Oh please! Don't try to shift the blame on me! And I didn't-you _masochistically_ stabbed your _own_ hand-I didn't stab it for you!'

'...True enough. But you did let me suffer.'

'I gave you first aid but anyhow-this is the size of his whole back! And deep enough to fit the tip of that gothic dagger of yours! Of course that only means it'll hurt like hell till it heals and of course that's what you're aiming at but-!'

'But what? If you know everything there's nothing for us to talk about.' said he nonchalant, and shrugged.

Her chin dropped; she looked at him with utmost surprise and doubt; he really thought this was about _what_ and not about **why** in earth he'd do it? He thought it was _alright_? 'Pardon me but...you think I wanted to talk so you'll tell me the specifics! I want you to tell me. Why the bloody-hell you're willing and capable of inflicting such damage without even thinking you have to account for it to someone?'

_Oh blast, she's freaking out again, _he thought worn-off but he was really growing impatient of this talk: she had no reason to intervene or a say in this matter and merely because she knew a couple of things more about him and he couldn't harm her, it didn't mean she could play "boss" with him. 'Look here stubborn woman, why and what I do with or to my d-friends is none of your concern and besides, you don't even like Malfoy-'

'That is the worst defence ever! Because I don't like him I shouldn't mind the fact you're **torturing him**? Or maybe the fact he's so loyal to you that he's unwilling to tell me anything and he believed he deserved it -something you guilt-tripped him into I presume- is-?'

Suddenly, Tom remembered why he was angry this whole time: Malfoy sang like a canary. Or if he hadn't then...

'Indeed...' said he absentmindedly -shocking her even more- but then the casualty of his voice turned into an edge 'which brings us to the next question: how in earth **do you** know about it?'

She almost chocked on her very breath. 'Excuse me?'

'I don't think I will; I'd specifically ordered him - '**Ordered**!' echoed she scandalized but he ignored it- not to tell a soul. But you are a soul. You'd be two souls if you could help it so do tell how you found out.'

His eyes flashed a deep red colour as his speech neared its end -and she noticed it worried- as well as that cold, off-distance glare Tom gave to particularly nothing that at the same time made her feel extremely motherly towards Abraxas; she dint know why, she only knew if he was around she'd be hiding him.

The thought worried her even more.

Since when had Malfoy become the accused one of this conversation...? And then she realized Tom was angry at Malfoy for divulging the information! But she hadn't given him a chance so he shouldn't be blaming him- 'You will leave Malfoy out of this. He did nothing wrong-never told me anything which is why I'm asking _you_ Tom; why d'you do something like that Tom-are you **insane** Tom?' she kept repeating his name for pressure; he didn't give in.

'If he didn't tell you, then the alternative is _he was for some reason _**naked** in front of you-!'

She slapped him immediately almost raged; _how dares he imply such a thing_, she thought with her hand still shaking, her teeth clenched.

'I felt there was something wrong with him so one way or another I found out but DON'T YOU DARE BLAME THE VICTIM! Why in earth would you do that to him-to ANYONE for that matter?'

* * *

He felt rage waging inside him, too; this was the first time any sort of physicality from Camellia evoked such feelings. Maybe because it was something that had absolutely nothing to do with her so he found no reason for her to be involved, how much more hit him for it! And just this once he didn't feel like letting her off the hook; if she were to be around him for more then she should finally learn how to behave...!

* * *

She noticed it; that subtle change of mood all around him...it scared her. She knew she shouldn't falter but she couldn't help but be afraid; her hand shook again but for a different reason now.

'You shall not strike me again' said he, darkly, towering over her short and -now timid- frame 'do I make myself clear?'

She took a step back, squeezing the sheet in her occupied hand in an effort not to completely give in and, even if she kept glaring at him, the fear inside her now welled up and she admitted it shamefully to herself; he was not able to inflict any harm on her yet how was it that she still felt threatened and scared? That only made her even more scared... 'You do realize that by telling me that I only want to do it more, right?' said she in an act of courage; but her voice came out shaky and less sarcastic than she aimed for...and he immediately saw that.

'Then why don't you do it again now?'

'Shut it!'

Apparently she wasn't as scared as he wanted her though because she was still talking back-and what a language did she employ against him...he took the final intimidation step: he grabbed her wrist; automatically he put his leg behind her knees and -as she lost her balance- she fell back on the bed; the long sheet around her didn't help him much but once she fell it made it difficult for her to stand.

She was making no sound but she was fighting back with all her might; so, as a counter measure, he grabbed her other one, too and pinned her down, her head between her hands.

He squeezed; she winced, terrified, and he knew full well he was hurting her because his hand was sending him powerful charges of pain. But he ignored it for now -it wasn't that unbearable- and he was too angry to think. 'And speaking of rules, you shall not speak to me in such a tone. Savvy?' his voice was silkily dark and frightening; she didn't respond. 'Did you hear me?'

'I did.' uttered she, through her teeth; he had no idea why he felt such satisfaction when he heard her say it, but he did. Finally he was close to breaking her spirit...still, her reluctance, even if it should drive him mad, it only made him feel...aroused. He shook the thought away.

'Then you won't do it again...' he continued; she looked stubbornly away.

'I'll...do whatever I want.'

He saw another kind of red now-the same anger he always felt when he was about to lose control. 'What did you say?' he hissed furious, climbing on top of her: his one leg supported him from the floor while the other was bent next to her.

She felt the pressure but didn't give in. She hated herself enough for being scared as it was, she wouldn't let him have his way! 'You heard me.' she retorted but without looking at him, worrying she will back down.

'But you said you understood.'

His voice was calmer, conciliatory, even if she essentially felt worse; his nose was touching her cheek, his breath making her shake like a leaf. She knew he knew because he was smirking like a fiend that feasted on the fear of others...he knew she was afraid.

'I did; yet that doesn't mean you are the boss of me.'

'Oh but I am' the blood froze in her veins 'that's what you fail to realize even to this day.'

.

.

But she was a jaunty woman! She didn't care, scared or not, she wouldn't be spoken to like that; after all, bravery is not the absence of fear but the will to overcome it...! Right? 'No, you aren't; gerroff me.' murmured she, louder than before but still not looking at him.

'No.' as if making a point, he rested all of his weight on his bent leg and consequently her.

'You're hurting me, leggo and gerroff!' she finally found some of her lost nerve-she'd never be manipulated by anyone, especially the person who avoids his responsibilities one way or another and still abuses people-who did he think he was? He might have been scary but this sort of attitude was unacceptable!

.

He sensed her defiance but he couldn't have that now.

'Make me.' he barked instead.

'You'll regret it if I do, gerroff me now!' she started fighting back again...but this was the perfect opportunity to show her he was not kidding: he pressed her down with even more force. Only this once he extravagated a little and he felt his hand prickle with blood. It made him drawback, but still didn't let go. 'I said let me go; you may have sworn to never harm me but I have done no such thing.'

His hand grabbed her chin, making her face him. 'I may not be able to hurt you but...violence isn't solely physical. And that is the only form of violence you can inflict upon me so don't be _too_ confident...Do you understand?'

'Yes.'

'Will you do it?'

'No.'

'What?'

He was confused. She was lucid.

'I said I won't; now gerroff me and leave my room.'

'What?'

He was even more confused; why wasn't she crying scared? Why wasn't she abiding by what he'd told her since she was shaking with fear...?

She stood up, knocking him on the side with superhuman strength -had she not left her wand on the nightstand he'd swear she did it with magic- and she started pacing up and down nervously and angrily, even if she was still shaking slightly; 'how dare you threaten me so openly in my own bedroom? How dare you come into my room and threaten me after what you've done to poor Abraxas? Get out of my room now. **NOW**. Leave.'

'What did you-!'

'Your howls of guilt do not scare me; you and I both know _you're_ the one who should be apologizing-to Malfoy! And if you won't tell me why you did it then at least I'm giving you this warning: should anything else happen to Malfoy...I'll know. And you don't want me to.'

'You're threatening me.' It sounded ridiculous. 'This is rich; and what will you do-tell Dumbledore?'

She became so angry so soon he almost jumped.

'After I went through hell and back to cover for you, after I lied through my teeth and nearly got expelled on your account, after I swore to keep my mouth shut or die you dare to imply I'd ever betray you?' that was the last straw. 'Leave my room immediately.'

He tried to argue but he didn't find something to counter that with, she was actually right.

'And I hope this sort of behaviour is the consequence and not the causative reason of your family's death...'

.

Now it was his turn to freeze. He'd never expected to make that connection for that matter; he stood there looking at her shocked. He still didn't know why he should be surprised by her wits but...this was not an occasion where he could just stop and admire her mind's workings because they have put him in a rather tight spot: it was obvious she expected an answer from him, yet it was an answer he was unwilling to give.

And the fact he wouldn't answer was obvious to the girl as well but she wouldn't allow him to leave before he extracted it from him as he'd definitely account for his actions; so she grabbed his hand as he was about to leave.

'Answer me.'

'No.'

'What?'

'That; didn't you deny me the same way earlier? Well, I respect you for being so haughty but I must ask you do the same for me thus no, I shall not answer your question which I may add is rather offensive.'

'Don't try to escape with pretty words.'

'Let go before I make you _Camellia_...'

'Answer me and you won't have to **Tom**...'

Both names were uttered with so much venom that one would think they weren't names but swears; looking each other deeply, wildly in the eyes none seemed willing to yield-...but there it was again: that same inexplicable emotion rising up inside him -and he was quite confident it did inside of her, too-: just as he simply wanted to grab her and choke the breath out of her, at the same time he wanted to simply grab her and ravish her...and quite honestly, her current overall countenance inclined him to chose the second; somehow her constant disobedience and her fiery temperament -that he still didn't know why it didn't drive her to Gryffindor- only compelled him to touch her, to hurt her yet not by hitting her but by thrusting her bare body against his, gripping and digging his nails into her skin...In other words, it made him feel ruttish.

After all, forced intimacy was just an alternative form of violence and especially when this woman was concerned in his mind and he had considered doing it to her a number of times and why he never did was still a mystery to him himself; but now it was the perfect chance for him to do it...Yet once more he didn't-he couldn't that's how he comforted himself. She kept looking at him with her big, honest eyes courageously and defying that was almost endearing to him-almost; and that didn't exactly enable him to do what he wanted, not even when he had her, moments ago, between his arms and legs powerless to defend herself...or even some nights when she'd forget herself in his room and she'd sleep next to him in a most provocative position...

Once more _he_ would give in and not her.

'Of course it's the consequence' _liar_, he thought to himself a little proud he lied to her face 'of my parents death and I feel gravely insulted by you just by implying otherwise. Now let go of my hand before I decide on a different kind of violence we'll both regret-especially you.' said he in the end, casting her now half-covered red bra a very lustful yet hasty look; she quickly became self-aware and discarded his hand immediately while grabbing the sheet and bringing it higher, to cover herself completely. 'Good girl...' he said patting her on the head like a pet and chuckled; he was at the door when he turned to her 'You'll know; how? Malfoy will spy for you?'

'Malfoy would rather die than receive any sort of help from me; but you know that better than I...'

'Oh I don't know; should you present yourself to him as you are now before me, I think he'd welcome it...' Just as she started, she stopped seeing the look of ill-humour plastered on his face. 'Goodnight Camellia...'

And he was gone, leaving a bewildered and blushing half-naked girl behind him...

* * *

Both men watching would never know where he found the self-discipline to actually do nothing to her even when she was in front of him in nothing but her underwear.

* * *

.

.

.

'Malfoy! Oi, Malfoy! C'mere for a sec...'

It was Camellia who'd gestured for him to go to her; considering all the latest developments -the events of the previous night that he had no idea what they were but they were obviously working in his favour- he was still a little wary of going to her. But he figured he owed her a thanks.

When he reached her, he saw something quite different about her expression: when she'd see him, she'd look either too sour or too mischievous always, but this once she was neutral, almost casual with him; he'd seen her have this sort of countenance strictly only when she would deal with Michael or Hector, her male friends that she knew had once an interest in her -well, in Michael's case he was still interested but never mind-. 'Camellia, is there something wrong?'

'Yes; you!' he grimaced annoyed 'And for once I don't mean you as a person -even if that's a problem that will never be solved-, so don't look sour; I mean your back. It's still hurt, isn't it? Well, let's go somewhere more privately and I'll put it right; I've learnt a lot of quick but strong enough spells to fix it permanently during my previous year of working at the infirmary!' they started walking idly to an empty classroom nearby 'I'm telling you, that nurse is wickedly skilled! Had he wanted, he could have become a top healer in St Mango's but you see he always wanted to work here, around children-he loves children! He practically raised his two nieces -currently nineteen years of age- which is why he's here: Amanda is his brother's daughter and Blair is his sister's daughter.'

'Humph-nineteen? He's barely twenty nine, ain't he? Besides they are the same age as us-wow, wow, wow, wow hold on, Blair as in Blair Ravenclaw Covet and Amanda as in Amanda Hufflepuff Bridges? **They** are his nieces?'

'Yeap!'

'...No wonder he was so mean to me when I broke up with Blair-I had a dislocated arm and he took him two whole days to treat it!'

They'd reached the classroom. 'Ha-ha-ha! Now I know why I like him...He's amazing, ain't he? _Colloportus._' said she pleasantly as she locked the door with a spell behind her.

'That's what you say; ask me-I was the one in agony for those two days-damn Quidditch! And for the love of me, how the bloody-hell are his nieces so old?'

'For the love of you, his nieces are fine; he is the one who's young: he was the youngest of four children, the oldest sibling, Kate, then his brother Robert -whose daughter is Amanda-, then sister Jocelyn -whose daughter is Blair- and last but not least him; but he was born ten years after Jocelyn and his nephew Thomas, who is Kate's son and he's older than him! Ha-ha, he says he feels cheated! And he was always the responsible one who took care of the children and when the girls came to Hogwarts -when we did, too- he decided to work here. Oh, take off your shirt.'

'O...K; that's an awful lot of detail for a person you don't even care about...' said he completely astonished at her thorough knowledge of the nurse's family tree while he was stripping naked.

'Oh well; gathering information is short of a specialty to me...' she boasted casually; he shook his head amused. He'd been around her for a mere five minutes yet she was speaking the four; how did Tom stand her all these years? Then again, she always had something to say and her information gathering skills seemed useful and solid.

'And I know more, I just hate to bore you with more details; now brace yourself, this spell will sting...a lot. Come to think of it, here' she threw him a bottle of water 'you'll need to drink a lot of it after I'm finished.'

'Camellia wait; I don't know if we should be doing this...' said he, getting cold-feet in the end; what would Tom say to this? Would he even accept an excuse such as "Camellia made me"-even if that was what Tom was always doing?

She put her hands on her waist, looking at him apathetically. 'You didn't really think before kissing me,' he turned deep red 'why do you object to something I thought thoroughly before doing it?'

'Don't ever mention that ever again-...alright, I understand. Do it. But if Tom has any sort of issue with this-!'

'He won't, not with you; now turn around and brace yourself Goldilocks.'

He shot a glare to the name she called him -that she obviously loved as she stuck her tongue out playfully- and then turned around; he took a deep breath...and then something hit him!  
It was cold at first, making him tingly...then it became too hot, and he felt his wound burning hotter and hotter as the seconds went by; 'AAAAH!' he screamed in utter pain; he thought someone had taken an iron tip of a blade that rested in lava for the past hour and then put it on his back to cauterize his cuts. 'Ugh, no more, no more! Make it stop.'

'I told you it would sting a little you big baby...'

'A little-this is excruciating! AH! J-j-j-j-j-just tell me, will this last any longer? And w-w-w-will it...ah...will it work?'

'You bet; I saw the nurse doing it a number of times to people with similar wounds and they healed right away!'

'...aren't you a little too cheerful? A-are you enjoying this!'

'Noooooo...' he looked at her narrowed-eyed 'maybe...'

'Well, at least you're honest...AH!'

'Oh hush you big baby...wow now I know why you still haven't had sex with Jules. You couldn't because of the scar...tch! To think I had actually thought you wanted to take things slow with her because you love and respect her...' snapped she, shaking her head disappointed; he narrowed his eyes at her anew as he finally started getting up and used to the pain.

'I do love and respect her...' said he plainly as he drank the water greedily.

'Yeah, but no more than your average girlfriend especially now that I put your back right...'

He smirked. 'Then why d'you do it? Have a crush on me Adams?'

'...' her eyes darted to him, apparently annoyed; 'I would never put someone's own safety and health over something like that; I will just warn her against you-...damn it I can't yet because of the bet' he was genuinely surprised she held her deal after everything that happened and she did for him 'but I will make sure she isn't hurt by your two-faced-!'

'Relax Adams; I plan on being a real gentleman with your best friend because I really plan on keeping this relationship: my parents say she is nice, you are OK even though a mudblood because of Tom so...there is no reason not to be serious with her: she is beautiful, smart and completely infatuated with me.' said he, looking very self-content and important; she rolled her eyes somewhat amused yet annoyed.

'Look here Casanova, I dunno what you-' but then...rattling was heard, like someone tried to open the door and failed; then banging! She ignored it and turned back to Malfoy '-what you think as a serious relationship but I want you to take all things into account and if this is to last any less than half a year or' the banging on the door had finally subsided and she could actually hear herself now -she had to raise her voice to be heard- 'even four months then don't start anything with her at all, you hear?' now it started again 'or else I'll be there to make you pay somehow...and since I put your back right then I want you to-oh for the love of crap, **SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP OUT THERE**!' shouted she indignant and surprisingly the banging stopped. 'Wow, finally; hum, I should have done this earlier. Ah, never mind' she shook her head 'as I was saying since now I have enabled you to be seen naked by another woman then I want you to take your time with her; don't have sex with her right away because in all truthfulness should you ask, she won't be able to resist you-so! Before you get too self-absorbed heed my advice -wipe that smirk of your face- and don't have sex with her until she asks it of you.'

'And how will I know that she will ask-?'

'Darling, I'm her best friend;' said she with a sort of arrogance he'd never seen her display before 'I will know what to tell her thus if I see you treating her well I shall...give my blessings to your consummation; she'd never do it without my blessing, be sure of that.'

Malfoy considered. 'Sounds fair.' he admitted finally, shrugging. 'Now let's see who was so persistent in coming into this classroom…honestly, he drove me bloody-crazy!'

'Tell me about it; I actually shouted at him…'

'Well, you do tend to do that.'

'Am not!'

'You most certainly do; a lot of times!'

She pouted as she unlocked the door; _alohomora_, both Camellia and Hermione chanted as she made the spell and the door opened -Hermione did out of pure habit but it still earned a couple of chuckles by her companions-. When the door opened they finally saw the man knocking on the door so persistently…

It was Tom!

They stayed there staring at one another for a while -Camellia and Abraxas were staring at Tom while Tom was glaring at each alternatively.

'…Abraxas; Camellia.' said he finally; he wouldn't allow this staring contest to continue as he had no intention of letting them think this was something funny that they could make a joke out of -as Camellia usually did and Malfoy would not hesitate to take this lightly if it were to save his arse-.

'Tom…' Camellia said, with a great smile decorating her features because of the situation and most of all, the look on Tom's face: he was too serious for the occasion. But then she realized. 'Wait, you were the one banging on the door?' she tried smothering a laugh; she wasn't talking to him and he wasn't talking to her -because of the Malfoy incident yesterday, each having their reasons- but she couldn't help it now. The thought of him desperately to pry open a door in a very muggle-like way just amused her. What was he thinking?

'Yes…I saw you two walking away together but I had no idea where you went; then someone told me you were in here, in an empty classroom all alone…and then I find the door locked. Why? What were you doing?'

There was nothing but suspiciousness in his voice and a general "accuse" in there that neither Cam' nor Abraxas knew to whom it was directed.

'My lo-,' Malfoy cursed himself in his head for almost calling him "lord" and Tom almost had a heart attack that he dared say such a thing in front of Camellia -who seemed to have noticed and think he would say "love" hence the widened in shock eyes- 'Tom, it was but ten minutes-!'

'Ten minutes are more than enough for you Abraxas.'

'For what exactly! You swine!'

She slapped him; Camellia was simply appalled by what he'd implied so effortlessly like her having an affair with her best friend's boyfriend was something completely normal.

He greeted his teeth in an ultimate effort not to lash out on her. 'The only thing "we did" was put his back right because he was still bleeding when I fixed him! Apparently you and I have a very different idea on what people do behind closed doors and it is very sad to see that even Malfoy has a less dirty mind than you-thinking I'd ever do anything with the man my best friend is dating-not to mention we don't even like each other! And now if you'll excuse Abraxas and I still haven't finished our business together so if you wouldn't mind take some steps back so we can have our privacy.'

She physically motioned for him to leave them alone by shoeing him with a swift motion of her hand; she was enjoying this very much because if there was one thing she realized all this time it was that Tom was a man who got very easily jealous…thus this would be the perfect chance to make him green! Poor Malfoy got caught up in all of this but then again, he was no innocent party so she didn't particularly mind. But Abraxas's worry was evident in his face: he was glancing between Tom and the girl in fear of his master's wrath after all this was over because right now he looked like he could murder them right then and there for even suggesting he wasn't wanted-or needed.

But Tom controlled his anger, clenched his fists, and raised his head as he took those painfully drawn-out and careful steps.

She turned around, turning Malfoy with her, all on purpose so that he will not be able to read their lips -which she knew he could do- and as a "bonus" she leaned closer to him, whispering in his ear the rest.

'Now, if you break Jules' heart I will snap that pretty and long neck of yours, do I make myself clear darling?' she was smiling -even if he didn't see her he could hear it- but combined with what she was telling him, it wasn't a pleasant one…but a threatening one.

Yet to a passerby who wouldn't have heard what she was saying -or how- it would seem like a perfectly seductive one. And so did to Tom who was now boiling in his stew. Perfect.

Malfoy gulped, his own smile never faltering out of pure stubbornness -he would never show that he was scared of a girl that was also a mudblood- and nodded as if nothing was going on. 'But of course dear.' In his voice finally something gave away his feelings: a small hesitant tremble did the trick.

'Splendid.' Stated she, putting on airs, and with her head held high she went to leave…but Malfoy's arm stopped from going anywhere further. She gave him a "sweet" -in other words murderous- look; despite the little bit of fear Abraxas felt at the pit of his stomach, he disregarded her and simply leaned closer.

Then he said 'You and Tom have been dancing around this for three years now; why don't you just accept his advances already? If you didn't want him yourself you wouldn't be going to such great lengths to make him jealous after all…' with every bit of suggestiveness piercing her; she smirked.

'Oh so keen you are Malfoy; but if I'm doing all I can to make him jealous why is it that you accommodate me even to this moment? Smirking, looking seductive instead of plain fear' he chuckled derisively 'or hatred. Want a little revenge on him for hurting your back or is it gratitude to me for fixing it?' questioned she, just as keen, making him surrender; she was good that one and it didn't benefit him at all…he started sweating out of anxiousness.

'…If I say the second will you be satisfied and go before he bloody-murders me for touching you…?'

'He shan't do anything to you again, you have my word…I shall pretend you said "both" and take my leave then; see you when I see you…'

She graciously slipped her arm out of Malfoy's handlock and flashed him a conceited smirk; he let her go immediately as he realized this was the best case scenario for now, seeing how stubborn she could get out of sheer whim and he'd hate to be the one caught in Tom's wrath about this…even if he knew there'd be no way around it, he still hoped for the minimum of punishments. After Camellia's reassurance though he did feel a little more confident…heh, what a shame for a pureblood like him, to think that the word of a mudblood was insurance of anything! Yet he couldn't help the way her words made him feel. Damn it!

'So what is it that she was telling you…that was none of my business?'

He gulped, scared of his icy tone; he knew what usually followed words said in such a voice: a lot of pain or misery…or both. He hoped this once it was only the second. 'No-nothing my lord; she only advised me against doing anything bad to Jules. Nothing else.'

'…and she had to take you somewhere I wouldn't be able to listen to tell you that?' he felt Malfoy suddenly started thinking that _he_ was a dimwit…and the thought alone was trying his patience, as he spoke testily to his classmate and servant.

'Maybe she wanted you to think like that; she just wants to make you jealous.'

'…is that what you think or what she told you to tell me?'

'My lord, you know me; I'm far too timid to even dare do something like that-lie to you on _her_ command- and she knows how sharp you are,' _and suspicious_ 'so her true goal was have us fight about it and make you jealous at the same time. Think about it; aren't we fighting yet aren't you also feeling uneasy? That's what she wanted from the start! Besides, what secrets could the two of us have? I would never lie to you and she only told me not to hurt Jules' feelings that is all; I can _swear_ to it if you want to so please…'

Tom casted a last glance towards the direction Camellia had disappeared to thoughtfully; he was conflicted: it was true Malfoy was a wimp and he would never dare lie to his face especially under her say-so but on the other hand…if Camellia wanted something then she had her way to convince him or make him do it even against his lord. But maybe Malfoy was right…

Besides, he chased after her too long, he deemed ultimately, and should anyone make the reconciliation step from here on out that should be her. After all it was her that gave him the "warning" not to harm Malfoy again and should he do it then she'd know and he'd somehow pay for it so enough settling from his part-now it was her turn to compromise. Yes, that was it and even she knew it; so since she knew this was her turn to make the first move, sooner or later -when her completely unjustified anger had subsided- she would come to him with her tail between her legs and bow her head submissively, asking for his approval.

Even if now she looked like she'd never do that -she always looked independent, proud and adamant- but she always caved in the end. She always did, just like that time three years ago that she accepted his gift even if she was angry; that time two years ago when she smiled even if she was holding it against him; that time during the summer when she finally explained to him why she'd been avoiding him…

And he explained that to Malfoy for the first time; he'd always been a little cautious about revealing anything pertinent to his relationship with Camellia to anyone but now he and Abraxas shared that bond of privileged trust that Tom had bestowed upon him when he had proved himself half a year ago and given he was the one who had the most skills in the "ladies" department, he figured it was about time he confined some of his thoughts to him.

Abraxas gave a nervous smile yet he was feeling amused all the same. His lord completely failed to notice that each and every time **he** was the one making the first move, so it would be a rather tricky task making him see that; and how **would** he make him see that? That was what worried him because his lord could get very stubborn and single-minded...that was his appeal anyway: his single-minded yet very convincing way he thought and expressed opinions- so he had to indirectly plan the thought to his mind that he had to -at least- go find her before she gave in. Because he'd hate to see his lord taste disappointment when she wouldn't come on her own to "absolve" herself.

Yet, that simple and naïve thinking that it was the girl who always surrendered first -an impression Abraxas held no doubt that it was Camellia's doing- which both allowed him to keep his ego intact **and** actually make the first move -thus the girl didn't really lose face- was what he found so amusing. Tom was such a beginner…! His surprising childish demeanor in the certain field always brought a huge smile to his servant's face and was he not so anxious he was asked for his advice he would be enjoying this all the more…

'My lord, I believe you should wait for a week; then, when she will be calmer, too you can go demand your apologies. There is no need to rush her; she'll merely prove more defensive and won't admit defeat.'

That was the safest thing to say; maybe if he phrased it like this then the defeat would be if the girl denied accepting his "advance" -meaning Tom going to her- and not the very fact he _went_ to her -which, in Malfoy's opinion it was, but there was no need to upset his lord by making him realize that this whole time it was him that was being utterly defeated-.

So he waited for Tom's response…

'I think you are right; should I go to her earlier than that she'd most certainly shoo me away. And I have no time for that…'

'Of course you don't…'

All was well; he fell for it. Thank God for his huge ego…

* * *

**A/N**:I think I'm in love with writing crazy, sadistic, horny Tom! ^^

Please review and/or message!


	28. Their routine

**A/N**:Bloody hell! I've been away from...everything for two weeks! But got back home just in time for an update! Ha ha, don't think me a depended one, I was supposed to go on a one week vacation but stayed there for two after all...but there there was no internet to speak of so I couldn't possibly do anything. Only one internet cafe but not that much money on my person to go there more than once a week, and only barely. Wow, I'm ranting!

Anyway; I hope your summer vacation is a blast just as mine has been up till now! And to say something relative to the chapter here well...reconciliation? Hope you enjoy dears. By the way, Dracula is bloody-brilliant!

* * *

A week had gone by without either of the two boys realizing.

As the second one was coming to its end though, Tom felt restless; he'd gone out of his way in an effort to approach the girl but she'd shamelessly shunned him time and again. And what's more, it was in front of many people, too! He'd felt the disgrace well up inside him the more she refused to acknowledge his intentions by not speaking to him or outright ignoring him.

No matter how many times he started a conversation in her presence she'd never take the bait, because they both knew that would mean truce. No matter how many times he suggested they walked them to their dormitory she would never even nod in agreement. Instead, she'd snake her arm around Jules' and whisk her away, pretending she heard nothing or if she did then she had no intention of following through with it.

And it was high time she cut him some slack. After all, the whole incident with Malfoy happened because of her; and no, he wasn't just trying to dump this on her...this once. In truth, Malfoy had directly suggested they somehow hurt Camellia and make it appear like someone else's fault right before he shamelessly throws to Tom's face that it might have been the time to "let her go"...even if Tom had only moments ago made known his intentions of wanting to keep her around even after Hogwarts ended. So that was direct disrespect to his face.  
Thus, this whole ordeal had been because of her and even if she hadn't been directly involved -she was just an insurance- yet she was a part of his plans nevertheless. And no one messes with those plans, especially nosy purebloods namely Malfoy or nosy mudbloods namely Camellia.

But of course he'd never divulge that piece of information to her; as much as he'd love to guilt-trip her that would mean at the same time he admitted he stood up for her and he's willing to admit it...which he's not. And he'd never be! He'd have never stood up for her had she not been a direct link to his glory to come. But she was. Thus he couldn't afford losing her out of some pureblood's density. Of course now Malfoy treated her a bit better -he was dating her best friend and she did defend him- yet at the same time he'd want her away -she, a mudblood, was bad crowd for his pureblooded girlfriend-.

So Tom was at a loss. He had no idea how to approach her...but he wanted to, he wanted to be with her again. He wasn't sure why anymore -implying that he once was but that was a lie-. Maybe it had to do with his raging hormones; or the fact she had now become a part of his daily routine. Or maybe he was just going mad for all the fuck he knew! He only really knew she was supposed to be there to indulge his every whim: sleeping with him whenever he felt like it -which meant every time he faked his loneliness fits- or serving him through various means, such as massaging him -that had become some sort of weekly ritual that he very much enjoyed-.

She made a good servant (even if that was the case only when she wasn't mad at him). And he wanted his servant back.

. . .

'Honestly Camellia, will you keep ignoring me?'

'...yes. I can do it quite well actually. Don't you agree mindless muscle number three?'

She actually startled Avery as she asked him the last part, landing him suddenly in the spotlight who nearly jumped out of his skin at the attention -but most importantly at the nature of her question- because he knew he just had had to answer; if not Camellia would officially label him as she had just called him while Tom would brand him a coward. 'How dare you! "Mindless muscle, number three"? You good-for-nothing useless **mudblood**-!'

Before the word dies in his throat so did his breath; he felt a strong right hook connecting with his abdominals... And that's when he realized why he had no air to breath. Also he should probably refrain from calling her a mudblood again; she didn't take it very kindly if her punch was an indication.

Malfoy -and Tom somewhere in the background- tried to smother a laugh; the inventiveness of this woman for inflicting pain held no bounds...while at the same time the length of this man's stupidity was immeasurable. He'd simply never learn not to offend her while a)she's pissed off b)she's angry at someone within her eye-shot and c)she's on her period. And she was all three of that. The third Malfoy knew due to Jules who had warded Tom off for the exact reason.

'Now I don't hold any particular feelings towards this word but I do hold particular strong negative feelings about you; especially when _using_ that word. So shut it, you were referred to by mere chance as I'd never call Malfoy that; he may be a lot of things but he is not mindless. Now' she turned to Tom, pointing at the man attached to her arm 'I would really love for this to go any further but...Jean and I have to go.'

The said man -Jean- was looking at the scene developing quite disbelievingly and, ever since that right hook, quite astound yet amused as well; his baby blue eyes had widened a significant amount at witnessing all of the transpiring events but he sobered up immediately as soon as his name was heard. His long black hair was neatly tied at the back of his head and as he straightened, to look more man-like and bigger next to his partner, he nodded gingerly. 'I believe it is about time we took our leave; I have family matters to attend to.'

'Don't tell me your sister found yet another girl to corrupt...' Malfoy shot entertained by the now deep red colours the man's cheeks flushed.

How could he be so...blunt and inconsiderate! Especially Malfoy who was considered a fiend amongst women for his dating "experience" -in plain words for the many conquests he flaunted- he had no reason to point a figure to his sister for having a somewhat different preference in romantic partners...which was true. His sister did prefer the same sex to involve herself romantically with but they had no business saying anything about it!

'You shouldn't care what my sister does with her love life Malfoy-try and fix your own first...' snapped Jean, clearly offended -in place of his sister who everyone and anyone would judge nowadays-.

'Actually,' said he suavely ' I already have...'

'Malfoy, I thought you of all people would love to know a woman who prefers women;' Camellia retorted in the same tone 'isn't that some sort of fantasy of yours?'

Malfoy turned red; Tom's eyes turned into saucers; Avery chuckled.

'That's what I thought; now b'bye!'

She left, with Jean still attached on her arm...

'_How the bloody-hell does she know such a thing_?' Tom hissed but it was lost on Malfoy's red deaf ears while he'd splutter incoherently.

Then he said something else in a low assertive voice, and then Malfoy said something back and they finally came to a conclusion: he nodded and then Malfoy sprinted after Camellia.

'Wait Camellia! I need to talk to you.'

'_Oh god_-Jean, go on; I'll see what Malfoy wants and get this over with quickly.'

The boy nodded and left; he really didn't need Camellia to wherever he was going rather Camellia wanted him as a decoy so they'll leave her alone. So if she no longer needed him...Camellia crossed her hands and stared.

'So what **do** you want Malfoy?'

'I want you to forgive Tom; go to his room tonight and act like nothing ever happened -I promise I won't be there to annoy you-. Alright, he is sadistic; and a tad selfish. But do you want to know _why _he did what he did?'

She felt that burn at her curiosity even if she'd hate to admit it. 'Yes, actually.' she finally said after Malfoy had remained silent -apparently until she'd speak-, something that honestly drove her mad; he knew how curious she was, he didn't have to torture her about it.

'Then do know he was actually defending you;' her eyes seemed to grow a margin 'I was-...I was being borderline evil with you even behind your back and he defended you. And _**because**_ he did, he'd never tell you that to make you forgive him-he's way too proud.'

'But he isn't too proud to send you to admit it to in order to do his apologies?'

His words seemed truthful. It appeared as if Malfoy was only being the middleman merely telling the news, the true facts. And if something like that was true then...Tom actually cared for her.

Malfoy should be mad at him, but not her; still, why wasn't he? That was odd; what was the true relationship between them? It feels like they weren't exactly friends but had some sort of superior-inferior relationship...or he was lying to her after all? Well, those two were the only explanations: they were either lying to her face or they did have an inferior-superior kind of relationship. So, still holding her doubts, she decided to fish for more.

'That is not true; he'd kill me if he found out I told you!' Malfoy said fervently but then he looked down like a doused cat; he gave a little smile. 'He only ordered me to do his apologies but without admitting this so please don't tell him...'

* * *

She believed him; she didn't know why or if it were a good or a bad thing but that sounded like Tom. So they hadn't lied, they only had a suspicious relationship...that required some further digging. Maybe she should go to Tom's room after all. 'Alright...' but then she realized. 'Wait, what'd you do if I didn't really feel like obliging you?'

He smirked again, but kind of sheepishly. 'You'd never...!'

She shook her head while rolling her eyes truly amused. 'I don't like the fact you and I share so many secrets lately Malfoy...' said she as she started walking away.

Malfoy shrugged content he had achieved his goal; Tom had threatened him should he fail he'd suffer a lot. But it worked out in his favour so not even that which Camellia pointed out bothered him. 'Neither do I but be a happy camper; at least this way we won't have to split Tom's time between us too much...'

Suddenly, as they were both about to leave, they stopped and looked at one another as the full impact of Malfoy's words sank in; they both felt a little crept out. '...why did that feel as if he's a child and we-?'

'-we are the separated parents; it felt weird like that didn't it? But does that mean something...? Should we try talking to him?'

She gaped.

'I meant it was weird you said it not that it's weird we both think Tom is childish, what's wrong with you Malfoy! Oh my god, I have to gouge my eyes-the mental image you've just given me won't go away!'

'...you're so overreacting.'

.

.

.

That night Camellia decided to go to Tom. She slipped inside the dormitory easily -_when the hell do they change the passwords; it isn't safe to have the same for so many weeks_, thought the girl as she'd tried the password he'd given her three weeks ago without really believing it'd work- and, Lucinda who was sitting on the sofa reading, she plopped down next to her.

'Hey Luce; how are you?'

Lucinda didn't look up, she kept reading her book but now a wicked smile decorated her features; every single time Camellia called her "Luce" she had an ulterior motive: to ask something, to apologize for something...and since she'd done nothing she needed to apologize for then she wanted something. And since the misunderstanding from two weeks ago had been resolved... 'Hello Camellia; what is it that you require?'

'...information.' said she wickedly as both smirked. 'Is Tom upstairs?'

Lucinda smirked wider. 'No...'

'You know when he'll be coming back?'

'No...'

'Oh...'K thanks.' the girl said tilting her head to the right, smiling all the same.

When Lucinda nodded in reply, Camellia noticed -from the weird position of her head- her book bore no title. Apart from the fact that was odd in itself, the book also looked familiar, yet she didn't know why. Curious, she scooted closer and peaked at her book to see what she was reading...

Had Lucinda known she'd be doing that, she'd snap it closed! But she didn't have time and Camellia managed to read it.

Just perfect. Now Lucinda would never live it down.

'Luce...? What is that?'

Silence ensued...

'You enjoy the accursed poets?' asked Camellia finally through laughs.

Lucinda expected such a reaction-in fact Lucinda expected a much worse reaction than just her laughing heartily at the revelation. 'Y-yes...but no one knows so please-!'

Camellia saw where this was going; apparently, a good modest girl from such a preservative family as Lucinda's -her family was well known amongst the students because they had sent a special letter to the headmaster which wrote that they wouldn't allow their daughter to attend any of the school's formal evenings had she not been escorted by a relative to the event- she should have never seen these kinds of things, how much more been caught reading them...

'Relax; what's there to tell anyway? I'd never cause you trouble...And well, I can't say I like them myself but I can see the appeal...' what was there to be ashamed of anyway? It's nearly as scandalous as things other students _**did**_.

'Well, maybe if you read some of it...'

'I have but...meh. I prefer novels, not poetry after all...'

That sort of revelation was a shock to the head girl.

'...you're the first one to actually tell me you've read them.'

Suddenly Camellia narrowed her eyes at no one in particular and now everything made sense; no wonder the book was familiar...

'...it's all Tom's fault; I wanted to try at some poetry nearly a month ago, when school started, because I never really bothered before and I said I wanted an interesting book, not anything about tulips and roses so he said he knew some poets exactly of the sort I was looking for and he'd bring me a book. And he did: yours; no wonder it looked familiar.'

Lucinda looked at her with an expression of utmost shock and horror. _That was where my book was! And does this mean he actually told_-?

'I know what you're thinking but no, if he didn't tell _**me**_ about the owner of the book then he hasn't told anyone. That only means he either didn't think it was worth mentioning or...by giving me your book he tried to play a trick on both of us. Which I bet is the case.'

They both shook their heads with surprisingly good timing; 'men' Lucinda said given up; that was not giving up on understanding them but on trying to put some sense into them.

'Men!' Camellia agreed with the same resignation...especially as far as Tom was concerned, he'd surely never learn.

'What did _men_ do this once?'

Both girls' heads snapped to the direction of the sound.

.

.

Tom was close to ecstatic when he realized it was Camellia's voice who had agreed with the Head Girl's bashing of men. When he actually saw her sitting there on the sofa a wave of relief washed over him...a wave of relief that should have washed over Malfoy in truth, as it was his neck that had just been saved: he had "promised" him a lot of pain had Camellia not been there -preferably on his bed but sofa is also acceptable-.

He coughed to make the girls stop staring at him so intently with their raised eyebrows, as if questioning his mentality.

'You are not one to talk about what men do that's wrong Tom...'

He averted his eyes as he went to his room, carefully tip-toeing around them instead of going directly between them as he'd usually do.

'Ahem, Luce, we troubled you long enough;' said the girl as she stood up, fixing her skirt and her robes 'thanks and please continue your reading...'

As she reached him on the stairs that led to his room -she realized he wouldn't move unless she went to him- he smothered a laugh...a laugh Lucinda needn't hiding. They were always like this it was cute...to Lucinda.

'Yes, continue your _very interesting_ poetry reading...' commented he devilishly, making the girl jump up bright red, forgetting her laughing.

Camellia jabbed him on the ribcage as retaliation though...

.

.

As they went inside, he could see what was coming; her hands were crossed so she'd certainly ask for a real explanation. And a murky, little bent one she'd certainly get. Of course she would drive him crazy until she gets it and she'd make a fuss over nothing -as he considered what he did to be perfectly normal- and then she wouldn't let him live it down for the rest of the month or until something else bigger happened, either good or bad.

...But that was their routine: she'd come, she'd huff and puff...but she'd never blow his house in-never severe their bonds completely. So it was all worth it; Camellia was there again.

He opened the door for her, closing it only after he made sure she was safely in. She wouldn't speak and wouldn't react in a way that would be indicative of her intentions yet just by being there he knew she wanted to reconcile. So he figured he might as well take that first step towards the conversation.

'You're certainly not ignoring me anymore; good or bad?'

'Both...' said she ambiguously as she traced the trinkets in his room with her fingers; his collection had certainly grown since the last time the four of them had seen it -three at the time-: a huge banner which wrote "We'll miss our captain" was decorating his wall, next to the Irish national Quidditch team poster. His gloves hung there under the homemade banner in an "X" pattern, making it look a little bit like a piracy-related theme.

Camellia was making herself busy with everything and nothing...She didn't sit herself down though, implying she would leave on the first wrong thing he'd say. Well, hell, she knew how to keep him on his toes. So he decided to cut this short.

'Tell me why you're here.'

'...I won't ask you for the reason you did what you did to Malfoy, I am having the suspicion you won't tell me; I figure it's some sort of what boys think as a "manly" thing and by no means do I want to make either of you feel less of a man...' well that was a cliff closely avoided 'but I want you to explain why you said all those things to me that day.'

Now that was the definition of sinking: she'd never asked for such an explanation before, she always put it behind them without a question...but the fact she didn't this once, meant she was not willing to put up with it anymore. And as much as he wanted to he couldn't blame her: he'd been slowly pushing her boundaries further ever since fifth year and apparently with his last little stunt he finally found her breaking point. Interesting that her breaking point concerned how he treated her and people that she considered his friends...

'That-...that day was..._**I**_ was-...um, how to put this...look I don't know why, I just sort of-...get snappy and I have huge...control issues...I suppose.'

He was mumbling and he only did that when he didn't know what to say; he didn't want to lie because she'd know but he didn't want to say the complete truth, too. She now was sure that this was getting out of her hands so she chose another approach.

'...Why in earth would you go to such lengths? It'd be just-...' she shook her head 'my question is why did you resort to such methods to punish him? No doubt you have your own crazy secret code I don't know but this is too extreme.'

'...'

So that was what she'd meant; it didn't sound in his favour. And the fact she was calm, forming coherent speech and valid arguments -on the opposite of him- only meant she had thought this through and she had seen past her original anger. That was very bad.

'Tom, I really need you to answer me.'

'...'

He hated to hear her say those words. It meant she was decided should he not answer, she would have to do something drastic. Either that would be them ending their most peculiar friendship or -if that was impossible they way things were between them now- she'd definitely set a few ground rules, rules he had avoided her setting for years. Maybe he **should** answer...

'I'm sorry you had to be there. And I am very sorry for the way I treated you that night...but I can't answer you. Besides, it isn't like you're making it easy for me!'

Her eyes grew wide at the last accusation and turned about to leave, but he stopped her. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like that; I only meant you're very...' he appeared to be looking for the perfect word to describe her '_feisty_! No matter what, you always have an opinion you have to say it and _impose it_! And quite frankly it's maddening.'

'Wh-it's about time you said I'm bleeding-Grindewald! I'm not like that; I do it to help people!'

'Yes, but you do it anyway! The end doesn't justify the means, remember?'

'T-Tom...!' protested the girl, deep red. 'It's different; you may not try to get your way all the time but you do some demented stuff and I may be a little tyrannical in behaviourism but I don't go around doing the stuff you do! And just so you know, I will not be spoken to like that again. And I shouldn't be saying this but-...' she suddenly stopped. She turned a little whiter at the memory of something but didn't falter and looked at him, even if a little paler 'you scared me.' she admitted, looking away. 'Considering you cannot **actually** harm me-...it's unsettling.'

.

She couldn't believe she just said that, -it was really eating her up- but at the same time she felt vulnerable to make the revelation. She felt he could see right through her now and it wasn't what she'd planned. She truly was afraid of him some times, either he did it on purpose or not she didn't know but she felt if he did it without knowing it'd be at least tolerable because he wasn't manipulative...something deep inside her told her he did do it on command though. And that was the worst thought she had, ever since they fought.

'Camellia...'

He reached out; he knew he had to tread carefully now. Maybe he could both calm her yet make her realize things wouldn't be looking up for her: she wasn't to be mixed with anything he had business in. Everything else, she could stick her nose in as much as she liked.

_But how can I say this without scaring her...?_

'I understand how you feel, but so should you; I have no intention of scaring you...but you shouldn't try to meddle with things that don't concern you. You had no business butting in with Malfoy- 'What did you-!' -but I'll admit, I was a little out of line.'

'A little? Tom, you _scarred_ the man; you physically stabbed-!'

'He was being disrespectful and impertinent; he should have never talked like that, it's simple. _And I did say I reacted a little over the top_...'

She bit her tongue; Tom had defended her against Malfoy whom she had defended to Tom-it sounded crazy and complicated. And it was also adorable he wouldn't tell why he did what he did; still she knew it and now she couldn't simply ignore it. It'd been permanently burnt into her brain in the part where all of her "reasons Tom is a crazy git I should stay away from but then he does **_this_** and I can't" memories are stored. So she couldn't be mad forever...

'...Have you apologized to him yet?'

'Pardon me?'

'Have you apologized to Malfoy.'

'...yes.' She raised her eyebrows surprised '...no...' she pouted 'I tried but I didn't actually say the words "I'm sorry".'

'So you _almost_ apologized; interesting. Alright, tell you what: we'll call him here now and we'll apologize tog-!'

He fired up 'I think I just told you not to interfere with my business-' he stopped his edgy tone and tried to calm himself; he smiled 'Camellia dear.' he completed, looking a little relaxed. She gave him a couple of suspicious doubletakes but he went on 'I'll do it when I wish to do so; anyway, I know I was out of line and I did say I'll apologize. Later.'

Tom coughed and looked away; he thought he just made it clear he wanted her to stay out of his business...

'Tom-...I want you to understand what you did and what you said to me was **wrong**; I don't want you to apologize just because if you don't I won't talk to you again yet deep inside you feel you did nothing wrong.

_Wow, she has really good instincts! But if I apologize to her now and say I know what I did as wrong she'll either never believe me or she'll think I don't mind doing something wrong...and I can't let her understand that either._

...I want you to apologize because you realize you did something bad. If **not**...then I see no reason-

_Shit, I really have to do something to distract her! Think what to do, think!_

-for us to be like this. I mean, this is getting comple-...!'

.

.

He hugged her...

In truth, he trapped her in an overpowering and helpless-rendering embrace that she couldn't escape from no matter what. She didn't seem to mind though; she relaxed into it almost immediately...

'I don't care about apologizing to Malfoy-I care about us.' She blushed to the mention of that little word. 'I can't pretend this doesn't affect me anymore and I can tell neither can you,' as he felt her hands curl up into his chest, he risked a bit of humour 'so don't be difficult-you haven't even smiled.'

She chuckled.

This wasn't what she was looking for...but he said she affected him and that was enough. She didn't realize until it was too late though: Tom never said he was sorry for anything. Yet by the time she understood that she'd already forgiven him for something he didn't ask forgiveness. And she never did ask him what she'd wanted about his relationship with Malfoy!

He had found a way to manipulate her without having to scare her...she somehow felt better yet much, much worse.

She let go of him at the thought and sat down, looking away even if she no longer had any intention of leaving; the thought she yielded so easily was enough to make her cheeks colour violently and make her feel as uncomfortable as he pleased. How childish of her, to actually think it's alright for him to do anything as long as he knows she'll be pissed thus he won't do it again...but would he really not do it again?  
That was what really worried her: he didn't seem remorseful. She could only hope he wouldn't because she feared she would never ask again not -only- because she was afraid of knowing the answer but the subject apparently made them fight. And she didn't want to fight him because this brief period she didn't talk to him she felt incomplete.

'So I's wondering' Tom started uncertainly in his Irish-ish accent 'if you'd be interested in staying the night; y'know, just in case you aren't **that** mad to hit me for even suggesting it...'

'Ha ha; no, I'm not that angry...but I can't; I don't have-!'

'I'll give you mine;' he said as he immediately turned about and started browsing through his drawers 'my shirt would be your equivalent of a dress.'

He was sure he'd bought something not half a year ago that was too long for him, as it turned out a size bigger, and it'd be just perfect for her, long and comfy...

He really wanted to see her in baggy clothing that _he_ owned.

'I know I'm short' said the girl pouty yet playfully 'but no need to rub it in my face...'

He finally found what he was looking for: a woollen black and grey long blouse with rhombus patterns, and a V neckline.

'I'm not; if anything I find it convenient you're pocket-sized...' said Tom as he flaunted the blouse, holding it out; he shifted it so he'd be holding it by the seam of the shoulders and compared it with her own.

Even as she shook from her laughing, he could see she was definitely two inches smaller than the blouse but it seemed somehow fitting; he put it on her, tracing her figure over the thick yet soft fabric. 'Try it on then!' he exclaimed expectantly, resting his hands on her waist; it felt surprisingly smaller today, even if she wasn't any different from yesterday.

He couldn't help but size their hands, how small hers looked in comparison when she hesitantly put them there -what for he didn't know but he didn't mind-, as he lightly caressed her sides...

.

Already blushing from the small advance, she shoved him away. 'If you'd be so kind to leave the room for me to change, I shall.'

And he did; he turned about and showed himself out immediately, resting his head against the door of his room. Heh, things were going rather well...

'Tom...what are you doing outside? Where's Camellia?'

'She's dressing; god forbids I see her in her underwear...'

Lucinda chuckled. 'Still won't admit her feelings?'

'Yeah...'

Camellia had told Luce everything **_that_** night -which was where she had so fast disappeared to- : her feelings and what she thought to be Tom's feelings thus she knew what Camellia truly wanted...so maybe she should simply steer him to the right direction. 'Then just tell her how _you_ feel -I bet she'll respond to honesty.'

Now that by definition was suspicious. Could she know the same thing Jules told Malfoy but he wouldn't speak about it? Lucinda and Camellia **had **grown pretty close as of late. '...what d'you mean? Speak...'

She smiled wickedly, knowing something he didn't; he hated that smile. 'I did. Be sincere; that's never wasted on a person like her. And that's all I'm willing to say...'

He sighed. '...but what if my sincere intentions aren't what she wants?' that was what truly worried him; he was perfectly sure going up to Camellia saying "sex, now" wouldn't bode too well with her...

'Then at least she'll appreciate your candidness; but if you **don't** tell her you'll never know. But then, maybe you'll be surprised...'

'What **do** you know Irons?'

She chuckled again; just as she was about to snap something back at him, she noticed a head coking out the door. 'Hey Camellia; ooh, love the outfit. What are you trying to be?'

Camellia chuckled back at her. 'The homeless girl since I had no clothes and tried on his...?'

'Ha ha; that sounds fun. What will Tom be?'

'Err...the guy who offered his clothes to the homeless girl?' she continued uncertain yet still smiling.

Lucinda giggled, abandoning her poetry book. 'The good guy then; nice!' even if both Tom and Camellia rolled their eyes she went on, looking devious. 'And you know what they say...the good guy always gets the girl in the end.' said she suggestively to the pair of them.

...they both turned red for their own reasons.

This was a bad analogy for him. He wasn't the good guy-he was the bad guy posing like the good one: he gave the "poor homeless" girl his clothes so he can rip them off without her being able to say no. That was Tom.

But even Camellia was nearly as naive as Lucinda to think that he was the good guy...and deep down she knew she didn't want the good guy if the good guy wasn't Tom. She wanted **_him_**, no matter who he was.

'Well, the bad guy gets her, too but for different reasons-there's the whole kidnapping and raping thing...'

Yet, the same thought passed through their minds: this role-playing thing sounded rather interesting all of the sudden...oops, their mind wandered again. As they exchanged one last look before they start back upstairs to his room, immediately they both knew what each other was thinking-Camellia even used Legilimency to sneak a brief peak at his thoughts and make sure they were indeed on the same wavelength...

.

He realized when she entered his thoughts but he didn't seem alerted. Instead, he allowed her to see what was going through his mind at the particular moment: a mosaic of many pictures starring her and Tom in many questionable poses while both wore nothing but the absolutely necessary-if she wasn't mistaken she even saw one-!

'Oh God!' she breathed as she turned away blushing profusely.

She tried to focus on anything else but him or what she'd just seen but it was a hard thing to do; what had just been seen could not be unseen...and the worst thing was she didn't even know if she wanted to.

'What? It's perfectly normal; it wasn't even anything too explicit...'

She turned even redder and started spluttering incoherently; his simper grew bigger. 'I didn't expect you to be the puritan-type dear.' said he amused in the end, watching her struggle to find the right words to express her sentiments.

'I-I'm not...and I'm also not sleeping in the same room with you!'

Wow; that was unexpected!

'What? Why! I **always **get these thoughts!'

She bit her tongue not to let anything she might regret slip. 'But now I've seen them too thus it would be irresponsible for me to still walk into your room-I really didn't need to know them!'

He smirked wickedly though; he still had a mean of pressure.

'Where will you go dressed like that...? I'm not giving you your clothes back.'

Camellia merely turned to Lucinda...who was watching them argue interestedly.

'Luce, I'll sleep with you tonight. OK?'

The girl nodded an absentminded "yes" infuriating Tom on purpose just because she wanted to side with Camellia, who shrugged pointedly.

'Problem solved; I won't have to go _anywhere_ dressed like this. And if you still refuse to give my clothes tomorrow I'll just ask Jules to bring me something.'

This woman just had to ruin _everything_. 'Goodnight girls.'

The girls giggled between themselves as he ascended the stairs and he could swear he heard Camellia say breathlessly to her new friend: 'those things you are reading are nothing compared to the mind of a guy-I'm starting to believe even _they_ abridged their fantasies-...'

. . .

They returned; was it their idea or the more they grew up the more time they spent watching? Did that have anything to do with the fact his mind was also "growing up" expanding, thinking differently or did it have to do with the fact the older they became the more complex things between them turned out to be? Then again if she actually shared such a memory with Malfoy -who even went as far as falling in league with her-, it was certain a lot of things were changing and needed recounting...

* * *

**A/N**:I wanted to make this smaller than the rest...so here you are! He he, I think I can still write less than 7000 if I try hard enough! xD Please review and/or message!


	29. Revelations and no ordinary birthdays

**A/N**: So...I'm updating early. Why? Dunno...boredom is a good explanation! So once again enjoy and thank you all of reading. Special thanks to dear **22ARMILEDAR22**!

* * *

Once they realized they were back in their present, they all looked at each other; they had no idea what to do next. All wanted to see more of the memories, get to the end of the seventh year as soon as possible but...they were kind of tired. They needed to recharge their batteries and Ginny had actually promised them she would train in Quidditch with them! That coming from a professional player was a big promise for both men! And Hermione too needed the rest.

But Hermione had a different "target"; she'd decided she'd confront McGonagall and ask her about this girl. They had even happened to chance upon a memory in which she was there fighting with Tom, trying to help Camellia. That alone was indicative enough of what she was thinking...so while the others would play Quidditch she'd go and ask the headmistress what she really thought. Hermione knew it was very possible the woman hadn't given them a lot of information in the beginning because they didn't know anything yet and they were three. Now she'd be just one and what's more, it'd be her favourite student...piece of cake.

'So...what do you think about taking a break?'

Everyone looked at Hermione.

'I mean, it's about three? It has enough light outside for Quidditch and then a rather filling meal...'

No one needed telling twice. Harry clapped his hands and headed to the exit immediately.

'I'll go fetch the broomsticks' Ron said following suit after his best friend 'you go get dressed Ginny!' and he was gone behind the door...

'And you Hermione?' Ginny asked before she leaves herself. 'I mean...I find it hard to believe you wanted us to go play quidditch so badly that you'd stop the memories...these memories **you** found and wanted to see more than anyone.'

Ginny was right on target. They both smiled at each other knowingly. 'I have a conversation to make with the headmistress so while you are occupied with athletics I shall be getting information-.'

'...Instead from the library, you'll go to the headmistress. Ha-ha, great; you'll tell us all about it during dinner, no?'

She smirked. 'Of course.'

They winked at each other; Ginny disappeared behind the door following the other two...and now it was time to get down to business. Where in earth is McGonagall?

=:=:=:=

_**At the Malfoy manor...**_

'Aunt...' Draco asked, testing the waters.

'Yes?'

She didn't look up, she kept reading her book; she was apparently absorbed.

'You look thoughtful...'

She turned a page, never looking up.

'Uh-huh...'

'Ever since father talked to you...'

'Uh-huh...'

Draco loved his aunt to death, just as much as she loved him, but sometimes he could be very annoyed by the way she didn't pay any attention to him; she didn't have to be so flamboyant about it. And where did she get this habit from?

'So what else did he talk to you about?'

'He told me that the woman in question had some sort of connection to me, a special one, which is something more than friendship...I feel uneasy; what do I still not know about my past? It makes me worried. Even if my brother has died, even if Tom has died I...feel there's still something missing. I believe that if I go to Hogwarts my memory might be jolted; I feel this woman may be the key to remembering everything. I only hope nothing too bad happened to her. Knowing how loyally your grandfather served Tom I fear he wouldn't hesitate killing her...'

Draco swallowed his tongue; she was really blunt about things. But what could he possibly say to her? She was kind of right...he only squirmed a little, looking everywhere but her. He hoped she wouldn't directly ask him or else he'd might as well-.

'Don't be so obvious sweetie, it's almost painful...'

'E-eh?' he coloured and looked away embarrassed. 'What do you mean? I didn't say-!'

'Of course you didn't; but like I have told you many times throughout your child and adulthood verbal communication is not the only kind...but if you already know that and still do this I am guessing this is something delicate, something you are very self-conscious about...is it that important then?'

When he looked at her guiltily, she shook her head; she sighed woefully.

_Oh no!_ 'Aunt I didn't mean to-!'

'It isn't your fault my dear, don't fret. I had to know anyway, don't you think? I don't appreciate the idea of being taken by surprise when I finally get there...'

He attempted at a smile... 'That's it;' she encouraged 'how is your fiancé doing?'

That seemed to unwind the young man; he smiled from ear to ear. 'She's great;' he informed excited 'she says she'll come over tonight!'

'My you really are a transparent young man; such jubilance over the fact you shall be having sex tonight.'

How could such an old woman be so crass and forward with her own grandson! It wasn't enough he was blushing like a mad man because of what had happened ten seconds ago, now he had all the more reason to-...! This woman was shameless! 'Au-aunt! I can't believe you've just said that!'

'Ha-ha; youngsters nowadays are so bashful; you know, when your father was your age and younger, he was _nearly_ as shy as you! He used to tell me everything. Actually, he came all by himself to me and told me the first time he'd ever-.'

Draco stood up, stopping himself from actually shutting his ears with his hands, like he used to when he was but a ten-year-old. 'I don't want to know!' he exclaimed desperately as he ran away.

His aunt Nausicaa chuckled once again as she watched him "escape" her bad influence –yet she'd bet all of her estate which was rather large that he'd be dreaming about his fiancé in inappropriate positions right about now- with a broad self-complacent smile on her face. Yet, no matter how amusing this was, she couldn't calm herself or stop thinking about what he'd told her. So it would be that serious, huh?

Suddenly she felt she didn't want to go there; she was sure she wouldn't like what they'd tell her-so sure she was disheartened. But she never was a coward and she knew this would go away the moment she'd actually have to face those people that she didn't even remember...yet something deep inside her screamed out she actually knew these people, either she had any recollection of it or not.

...She couldn't quite explain it, but it felt exactly like it did when she talked to Eric for the first time -one of her few true friends if not the only one-, all those years ago -more than fifty- at that party when she was still young-26 years old to be exact and her memory loss was still a little fresh. After all, two years of not knowing who you were and forming your new self were a very small period compared to 24 years of lost time.

So, when she'd met him for the first time sitting all alone at the balcony of the Malfoy manor drinking his problems away, something deep inside her stirred. It reacted to his sight like a magnet does to metal. His crouching posture, the very fact he was drinking, his black unruly hair hastily caught into a pony tail it all rang some bells inside her head...She just had no idea what it meant or who he was supposed to be, uncunning as it may sound! She only knew -like a gut feeling- that he must have been a part of her past somehow or else she wouldn't be having such a strong response from within her -and it must have been accurate, too or else her brother and Tom wouldn't go to such lengths to shoo him away-.

She sighed...

This would be a rather long wait till the day she was presented at Hogwarts and found out the truth...

**.**

**.**

**.**

'Hello headmistress...have a moment...to spare?'

Hermione had spent thirty minutes of her life trying to find the said elderly woman on the marauder's map and catch up to her. Surely, she found her easily but she was literally at the other side of the castle so not only once but two and three times did she lose her just before she manages to call out to her and stop her.

Thus her heavy breathing was justified...but Minerva McGonagall had no knowledge of these facts and it only appeared unnatural to her, an eyebrow raised in question as she watched the young adult leaning and supporting herself on her knees as she tried to manage her breathing.

'Are you quite alright Miss Weasly?'

'Yes...' only when she finally got to breathe again normally did she speak further. 'Excuse me but I have been running to find you before I lost you again.' _Damn she moves fast for a woman of 78 years of age..._ she thought while straightening and giving a small smile.

'Oh; you have been searching for me?'

'Indeed I have; can we speak privately for a moment? Just a moment will do I reckon.'

The older woman shadowed. 'Does it have to do with Miss Adams?'

She saw the hesitation in her eyes. Hermione had no idea why but McGonagall looked more than unwilling to give any personal information other than general. '...yes. Just a moment, please...' still she pressed; she had some more questions needed an answer and she wouldn't fold so easily this once.

McGonagall looked all around her; she seemed to be considering her proposition and the fact no one passed by that precise moment apparently helped Hermione's side. 'Follow me in here.'

She curtly nodded to the empty room next to her; both women disappeared into it before one could blink. 'Now speak;' she was so abrupt, Hermione gave a little jump 'be fast and laconic. I have other things I need to do.'

'Of course, you are a headmistress now. I suppose what I want to ask is...Apparently you and Voldemort didn't like each other and you were openly against him being around her-even going as far as counselling her to get away from him **in front of him**.'

'...where is the question Miss Weasly?'

'A person like Tom wouldn't let that be so easily; he must have retaliated somehow. So...what did he do in order to let you know you should refrain from such behaviour in the future?'

The old woman looked away very uncomfortable. She must have struck a nerve...or she might even have reminded her something she wanted to forget on the first place. Ooh, this must have been interesting-it was a good strategy to go with this one.

She kept staring expectantly at her once-upon-a-time teacher like she used to when she was in class purposefully so that she wouldn't be able to deny her the truth, and kept pressuring her. She would crack any time now...

McGonagall sighed tiredly. 'You are quite right Miss Granger' suddenly she looked ten years older 'he did take measures.'

She sighed once more and shook her head defeated. She didn't ever want to say this to anyone: it was one of those moments in one's life they wish they went back and did it different. Even if in fact she had much, much less to regret than the average person, she still had something and she felt rather embarrassed **this** was one of them. But Hermione deserved to know the truth. Camellia Adams deserved not to be forgotten, like she was until Hermione found this book...

'I hope you think not less of me after this...but you do deserve to know what happened. So, I shall begin my story saying this: the beginning of the end was that day when we found Myrtle dead in the lavatory.

...I was scared for myself seeing I was a renounced muggle-lover but I was even more disquiet about the muggleborns I knew and cared for. Well, I didn't particularly care for Camellia, but I did like her. Thus, ever since that day, I'd been visiting the Ravenclaw dormitory and I'd been trying to convince her to stop being friends with Tom-and not just friends but generally! Leave him alone, stop socializing with him!

There is no need to say of course how easy it was for me to gain access to the Ravenclaw dormitory as all I had to do was answer a question but...at the same time not just I but also more students, _like Slytherins_, gained access to the same place.

And they all bore witness to my repeated coaching.

Simpleton I didn't realize they were watching me, keeping an eye on Camellia instead of just talking with their friends and...before I knew it, people were reporting to their "lord" of my actions; I actually saw them taking mental notes of where I was, what I did and with whom I interacted on daily bases.

It had been a month and I was visiting her almost every day, saying the same thing over and over again; she kept turning me down every day saying the same polite denial over and over again. I was at my wits end. I really wanted to make her see things from my perspective but she just trusted him too much, claiming she knew his flaws but also his good points. I claimed he had none; she laughed, I rolled my eyes, we talked about something else and I was gone!

But one night, already done my rounds as prefect and talked to Camellia, while I was sitting all by myself in the Gryffindor common room and I was certain all students were accounted for, I heard the painting part and...There was he, Tom Marvolo Riddle standing in front of the Fat Lady, looking smug and fearless.

I was anything but.

Since first glance, I knew he was up to no good; he had come with wicked intentions. I was convinced he not only knew I was trying to influence Camellia against him but he also had a counter measure for it. He wasn't proclaimed the smartest person in the school even by his fifth year for no reason after all. And that person was right in front of me, looking murderous yet sinisterly joyous. I felt my skin crawl just laying my eyes upon him.

So he walked over to me and told me, very politely and casually indeed, if I continued to annoy Camellia then something really bad would happen to me. When I retorted I didn't fear him and if he dared do anything to me I'd already warned my friends, he simply...smiled. Widely. And then he told me that there was not just one way for a person to disappear...especially one like me.

What if, he'd said and I can still feel the goosebumps when he leaned close to me with that threatening smile of his, I suddenly failed all my classes? What if I just had a bad luck streak and all my grades plummeted? Wasn't I the one who wanted to be a teacher? Wasn't I the one who wanted to be a career woman?'

Her voice almost broke; she sobbed as she controlled her tears from spilling. It was cruel, Hermione thought, watching her transfiguration teacher and headmistress struggle to keep it together; never had Minerva McGonagall been as such before and it was queer as it was inhuman to bear witness to it. It appeared she was reliving the memory that very moment. She was once again the seventeen-year-old girl who had the sixteen year old frightening future dark lord speak to her face.

And she also felt the same regret, pain and helplessness: then because she knew she'd give in even if she shouldn't back down because it might have saved Camellia's life and now because she knew she shouldn't have given up-she'd done something terrible which might had decided not just Camellia's -as if that wasn't enough- but many a people's lives, too.

She sniffed audibly and wiped at her tear-filled tired eyes. 'He said everyone would know my secret crush, too; hadn't I been a bit too concerned over Leonard Hufflepuff Donahue? Not just my dreams but I'd also had my heart broken. I was shaking so badly, I thought it was obvious.

And it was-his smile became wider and more vicious still; he came closer and closer until I fell on the couch. Then he just stayed there, looking down on me with his sadistic smirk. He didn't give a single inch, not until I shook my head in a timid agreement and I let a little yelp escape me instead of a "yes". Then, he changed completely; he looked so...complacent, so tranquil and I thought it wasn't possible for a person to change so fast, yet there he was. He patted my shoulder and said "good girl" and left immediately. But it was weird...the way he complimented me, even if it was empty, somehow it made me feel better yet much worse. It was humiliating yet relieving.

And so, I stopped trying to talk sense into her. I left her completely alone. I didn't speak to her at all after that-almost never again until I graduated. I was completely ashamed. I felt I betrayed her. Well, I was afraid to be seen with her, too in case Tom thought I was trying to "convert her" -as he used to say- again. But what was the most disgusting thing of all was that...the more I stayed away from her, the more I received unexpected gifts that helped me with both my studies and my-...err,' her cheeks coloured significantly even if she had relaxed 'social life. Especially with Leonard...'

Hermione smiled 'I think I know what you meant headmistress...'

'Well that; yes...so um, I hope you really don't think-.'

'No, no headmistress; no; I think no less of you. I have seen him operate and I can fully understand...so!' She should go before this became awkward. 'I shall be going now...! I have to get back to the rest and then go watch some more memories and stuff.'

'Indeed.' Hermione turned about. 'Oh miss Weasly!'

Had she called her Granger before?

'Yes ma'am?'

'Tell the others please...'

Hermione smiled warmly. 'Of course ma'am.'

**.**

Harry was too shocked to speak coherently. 'She, what-!'

'Honestly?'

'Yes Ginny...'

'B-b-b-bu-but-...'

'But nothing Ron; quite frankly you can't really blame her. He wasn't the ultimate evil then, he was but a dangerous classmate. It's very different... So can we go on now?'

She decided to break the information to them after lunch after all; now that they were all gathered around the pensive again it was the perfect moment to tell them. When she did, they all received the news differently: Ginny was stricken yet understanding; Ron felt betrayed but somewhat sympathetic while Harry...Harry knew. Harry didn't blame her. Harry was shocked just because he never believed of all people McGonagall would also have suffered this sort of thing.

'Yes. Let's.'

**=:=:=:=**

'Chatting up ghosts again Tom , are we?'

He jumped; the last thing he was expecting to hear was Camellia's humorous yet reprimanding voice in the middle of the dark corridor he'd isolated the ghost of the Ravenclaw dormitory, the Grey Lady-originally Helena Ravenclaw to. 'G-goodbye Helena...' he said as hastily and politely as he could; he'd no intention of letting Camellia know what he's talking about with the Grey Lady or she might have actually been curious!

'Leaving already...? Please stay a little longer...' the see-through young woman said, almost imploringly.

Tom looked at her narrow-eyed; he knew for a fact Helena Ravenclaw was shy and now Camellia was there, too. Did she not mind the presence of the girl?

'Yes Tom; stay a little longer.' teased Camellia as she nudged him on the ribs, but she never really looked at him...her eyes were fixated on the female ghost. 'How have you been Helena? Do forgive my absence as of late but this year has been hectic-even _**I **_am forced to read!'

The ghost gave a small but sincere laugh. 'That is unfortunate indeed...'

Wait, why did she get the joke behind that; why did Camellia joke with her on the first place? Were they...acquainted?

Camellia smiled as she caught Tom's question with the edge of her eyes. _He didn't really think he's the only one to speak to the ghosts, did he? _she thought rather amused, but never did her eyes leave the fragile dead woman in front of her. 'Oh! I have thought of a way to scare those who mock you; don't just run through them, it's nearly alarming the third time. But you **can** pretend you can possess them. I'll serve as _example_ if you like...'

Helena chuckled again. 'That would be wonderful; maybe next time? I sure am weary now...'

'But of course.'

'Then I bid both of you farewell; until the next time...'

As the transparent woman bowed her head, she slowly disappeared through the corridors. And as soon as she was gone, Tom turned to her shocked.

'You know who the Grey Lady is? And you've been speaking to her!'

She shook her head; so much drama, really. 'Certainly; she's the ghost of _**my**_ tower. I like her sort anyway-remember my elective subjects dear? Besides, I know all about her and Bloody Baron; she told me. D'ju know she actually considered him but then he went ahead and killed her...? And I did talk to Bloody Baron, too! He's so very guilty about it but she still won't talk to him.'

'What the bloody hell are you going on about her and the Bloody Baron?' he asked suspiciously.

It really didn't make sense; he'd asked Helena -and she answered- so many things, but not once did she bring up any connection to the Bloody Baron. What did Helena consider him for? The way Camellia was talking about this, it felt like the two of them might have been lovers! And if that was true then how come she didn't tell him anything or why didn't the Bloody Baron for that matter?

'You mean you don't know...?' she asked incredulous. He always missed the juicy stuff! 'He was in love with her-deeply in love with her but she kept rejecting him...messily. But then she stole-.'

'I know about that;' he cut in curtly, a bit annoyed 'she stole the diadem and her mother sent the Bloody Baron to retrieve both but he ended up killing her instead.' How dared she look down on him in such a manner?

'You never wondered why would he disobey Rowena's commands and kill her instead of brining her back!'

'Well...she refused...'

'That is not enough reason to kill someone-that's reason to grab someone and run.' said the girl between chuckles. 'But he felt it was a personal insult to him, you know, an "I'd rather die than come home with you of all people" kind of thing! But in truth, she was intending to ask him to stay with her! But well, then he went ahead and killed her in some dark forest of Romania and she's still sore about that...and she's a little too inflexible, hasn't forgiven him yet, even though he has chains on all limbs. Ha-ha, such a difficult woman, no?'

'...all Ravenclaws are apparently, especially in terms of accepting Slytherins' advances.'

She couldn't help but laugh at his comment, even if it made her colour for the indirect spike to her; she chuckled as she waved a hand dismissively. 'Where is the fun in giving in so easily?'

'Just for future reference and a fair warning let me tell you he did end up _killing her_ out of mere frustration.' he pointed out meaningfully.

She chuckled again; he was so fun to tease. 'Now I know you don't mean that; besides, she spurned him continuously which fuelled his anger. It isn't the same; I merely keep-'

'-rejecting me.' he finished for her, pouting. He hadn't expected this talk to go there or her being so comfortable about it -especially so suddenly- but it was relaxing; thinking the rest of the things he had on his mind and needed taken care of, this was a pleasant break and he was relieved to see she could always provide it effortlessly.

She did have her uses after all.

'I wouldn't call it rejection per se;' she retorted with her hand on her chin, pretended to be in deep thought 'more like, on hold. Yes, I'm keeping you on hold, that's it.'

'On-hold has more drawbacks than benefits; uncertainty is worse than rejection. If you did, I'd move on; but now I can't because I have to know since I still want you, thus, I am both alone and on my toes of what might happen and I cannot enjoy my adulthood!'

Suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks. After a dramatic pose she looked up at him, severe and stern. He was a bit taken aback; what would she say? Why did she take it so wrong all of the sudden? He'd said something he shouldn't again!

But before he panics completely she took a deep breath and spoke: 'Yes Tom, now you know: I'm the root of true evil.'

His shoulders fell as the tension left him immediately. He started laughing.

She couldn't believe he was actually worried about what she'd say; it really was fun teasing him! She laughed along.

'That you are Camellia; sometimes I really think so...' _considering_ _what you have me doing_...he mentally finished his sentence as he shook his head.

She crossed her hands,sticking her tongue out. 'Then evil never looked cuter.'

'That is also true.'

'What is also true?'

.

Malfoy's voice was heard.

Then Jules, who was latched on his arm, came in looking thrilled. 'Hey there!' she saluted merrily, as she leaned on Malfoy's arm.

'Go snog somewhere else.'

They were standing in front of the room of requirement, where Tom and Camellia had planned to go and had meticulously kept a secret from the entire world ever since Tom found it...but now, due to one little moment of weakness two months ago, Camellia took pity on her best friend -as she had nowhere to be alone with her boyfriend and his room felt stifling to Jules- and showed her this room. And now all four of them knew of the location of this place and were currently in front of it.

'That was uncalled for, Cam!' her best friend protested reddening.

'What did you expect from an uncultured mudbl-OUCH!' both women hit him simultaneously; one at the gut and Jules elbowed him on the shoulder. 'What was that for?'

'Don't insult my best friend.'

'I'm not uncultured.'

'I'm staying out of this.' Tom simply stated in an ultimate attempt to decline any involvement in a fight which would result in a pounding tournament for Camellia and Malfoy. (Malfoy had turned out to be quite the physical being, too as he almost always retaliated to Camellia's attacks. That he didn't do so now was only because it wasn't too much of a hit and she was kind of right.)

'You always do.' They all accused him in a chorus; now he felt uncomfortable...

'That's because he is smart after all; he knows what's best for him. Then again, he's still friends with _you_ mudblood but, hey, we all have our little flaws.'

She burned. 'Took the words right out of my mouth, Goldilocks.' snapped she before she could lose her temper.

'I have repeatedly asked you not to call me like that! It's dim-witted and absolutely unfitting for a man like me!'

'And I have repeatedly shown you I can't care less.'

'You...!'

'Save it for the honeymoon...' snapped Jules worn off; for some reason beyond her understanding, these two were always at each other's throats bickering and bickering. She used to mind but ever since she and Abraxas got together she had realized he really didn't like her that way, he only did it to appease Tom. So she could joke all she wanted now that she knew there was no real threat.

'Which brings us back to our original argument: go make out somewhere else; I have no intention of sharing the room with a couple.'

'Stop saying such things Camellia! And you don't have to share; you can go to the Head Boy's dorm.'

And they started fighting again; lately, these two always fight. Even though their friendship was just the same as any other time, or even stronger, somehow they did nothing but argue wherever they bumped into each other. Maybe they'd always been fighting but only just now did they think it was alright for them to see them in a more personal level. Heh, these women were full of surprises...

But they were also noisy, so he blocked them out the best he could and concentrated on talking with Malfoy for whom it would be a little more difficult, seeing one was tagging on his arm.

'So how are you doing with Jules, Abraxas?'

Feeling his ears burn, but trying to ignore it, he managed a smile. 'It's fine my lord.'

* * *

'_Like hell, Luce is there and we need to speak very privately; you on the other hand can go somewhere else.'_

'_No we can't; you know I hate his bedroom!'_

'_Then don't go to his bedroom-go to ours! I'm not there and I know for a fact Andria isn't there, too since I just saw her running to Hufflepuff dormitory!'_

* * *

He shook his head amused. 'She's been driving you crazy, hasn't she?'

'Yes...'

Tom laughed; it was good to know he wasn't the only one suffering from a woman close to him, and seeing how these two were so similar he only figured Abraxas suffered almost as much as he did. Of course Julia was a rich, obedient pureblood woman who, even if she fought, she'd always succumb to his will in the end. And Malfoy wasn't even forceful! Why would _he_, that he was so much smarter and much more demanding never get his way?

'Can I ask you a question Abraxas?'

'Of course...'

* * *

'_But still; why do you have to speak in the Room of Requirement? It's perfect for getting alone not for talking alone...' her face took a darker shade and smirked 'you're not gonna do anything else are you? Oh my God, do tell me you're finally gonna-ouch! Geez, you don't have to hit me like that.'_

'_That's for being an arse; you know it's not like that!_

* * *

'How do you make Jules do whatever you like? You're nearly as convincing or imposing as I am yet she always does anything you want while Camellia...is unyielding. About everything. You'll see, after all it's you and Jules who'll leave...Watch:'

'But still, we want to be alone and sure no one will walk in on us!'

'There are a whole bunch of spells that are good for that besides, I showed you that room so you can use it when I'm not! That is the very situation I was trying to avoid!'

Jules huffed annoyed. 'You're always so...absolute! Fine, we'll go; come on dear, let's leave them to it.' Suddenly the two males were a part of their little world again. 'Maybe if we do then he gets to seduce her, and she stops being a stick in the mud!'

Camellia coloured too fast to be able to respond immediately; she only seethed and glared but Jules managed to snap one final insult to her: 'you spinster!'

'B-bye...' Tom bit out.

Oh no; she was angered and the person who drove her mad just left...that only meant he would have it. Oh bloody hell no! Maybe he still had time to-!

'That girl...! Ever since she started going out with Malfoy she's become so...stuck up! Guh, it's your friend's fault, too!'

'...I agree.' _Damn it, I didn't get an answer from Abraxas..._ 'Let's just go inside-!'

She cut him off, completely ignoring the fact he was the one who suggested it and pushed the door open too unceremoniously as she barged in. 'I mean, if it weren't for his annoying and superior-like attitude she wouldn't be so selfish lately!'

_That or he just urges her not to indulge your every whim, you over-demanding, crazy woman. _'You're right.' he said instead, pretending he was in total synch with her.

'No seriously; he is like the plague, leaving nothing uninfected! And now she is infected!'

'I have no reason not to believe you, honestly...'

_Wait a minute, something is off._ 'You aren't arguing with me...' she finally realized 'why?'

'I am currently too scared to do so;' he simply admitted as he plopped down in a chair 'plus I find it's much easier to agree than argue with you.' he completed, tying his hands as a pillow behind his head.

She pouted as she plopped down on top of him '...you are no fun dear.' after she made sure she heard a little "oof" the moment she sat on him.

He took advantage of the chance and immediately put his hands on her half exposed thighs -as her skirt was shamelessly pushed back by the momentum-. 'And you are dangerous when incensed darling.'

'You can always chuck some cake at me.' she opined thoughtfully while smacking his hand away.

'Or I could kiss you.' he attempted to flirt, but not so much; both smirked.

'But then I'd hit you.'

'But not if I presented it with a cake.'

'Only if it's chocolate.'

'Then we're OK;' she blinked surprised 'here you are: a chocolate birthday cake.'

She gaped; he smirked. She really hadn't noticed he was carrying things or she hadn't realized they were for them.

'And here is another little thing for you; I figured since it's your birthday today and all, I should probably get you something nice...'

She melted. 'Wh-Tom...you remembered my birthday?'

_Wow; she thought I didn't remember something as basic as her birthday?_ 'But of course; just because I hate celebrating mine and I never really gotten you a gift before, it doesn't mean I don't know when you have them.'

'But why now?'

'...This is our final year here and I wanted it to be special. So I got you a gift.' he replied shrugging. 'And the chocolate cake; so either eat or open the present...!'

She smiled widely, heartfelt; he was so sweet when he wanted to, really! He was being nice only on rare occasions, which only made her believe he truly treasured this moment. She did mean a lot to him...the thought alone made her heart sink but then fly again!

She opened her mouth and took a bite from the piece she cut out for herself, a treat she had denied herself for the past month -she needed to lose weight and she always hated this phase- but now, being her birthday, and since it was Tom who was offering it to her...

Damn, it tasted divinely!

'You really have to try this Tom, it's delicious! Where d'you get it?'

'That is a secret only I and the house elves are aware of; but please, I'd hate you miss a bite because of me. You have been depraving yourself of it for some time now anyway...'

Her cheeks coloured; not only was he very observing he also knew she was dieting. Best friend or not, that was always an awkward conversation to make with a man-as far as she was concerned.

She nibbled on her spoonful thoughtfully; she couldn't decide whether to open her present now or back at the privacy of her bedroom alone, just to torture him a little longer by planting the doubt of her not liking his gift. She still attributed it to complexes caused while at the orphanage, but she knew he had acceptance issues and as mean as that sounded she liked feeding his obsession.

'Care to open the present, too?' he finally asked, voicing his thoughts; all of the previous haughtiness and air had disappeared under the pretext of curiosity veiling his true intentions of seeing either he was correct in giving her such a gift or not.

He gambled a lot with this gift: he'd assured her almost two years ago that he wasn't responsible for the petrifications in the school yet he chose to give her a makeshift necklace which consisted from the tooth of a Basilisk and a leather lace. He'd made it himself and he even had an excuse ready for when she'd ask him where he'd found it: he chanced upon it while he was looking for his family during _that _summer but he wasn't quite confident now that she'd believe him. Maybe she'd connect the dots...

Then why did he make such a gift if it were so dangerous, one may ask...that is for no other reason than he knew Camellia loved anything which had to do with abnormally large or frightening beasts. And besides, what's life without a little bit of risk anyway?

She smirked, seeing his impatience quite clearly; after taking another small spoonful and stuffing it in her mouth, she let the cutlery there with the cake and ate slowly away while her hands were occupied with unwrapping the small, black, gift-wrapped with a silver ribbon box. Its shape didn't give her much room to determine what could have been in there -from a ring to a rare specimen- so she opened it with rekindled interest as soon as she realized; careful not to spoil the surprise by exposing the contexts too early, she did everything in slow motion.

_Must she do that? It's quite irksome..._

But he didn't admit his thinking, trying to preserve the cheery atmosphere; things were actually going well and she hadn't even eaten half her cake...

'...wow. Is this what I think it is? A serpent's tooth!' exclaimed the girl ecstatic; how she loved things like these! The tooth was rather large, two inches almost, must have been a hell of an interesting serpent! As she took it out of the box and saw it was fitted to be worn around the neck she smiled even wider. 'What kind of snake did you get this from-look at its size; I bet it was a huge one! Oh dear! It's so beautiful!' she kept on, holding the tooth at eye level. 'Here, put it on me!' she immediately suggested and -being already in his lap- she only had to turn but a little.

He simpered as he tied a firm knot at the nape of her neck; her enthusiasm was always that of a small child and he enjoyed watching her overjoy herself with the small things, like a gift here and a treat there. 'It's a basilisk's tooth;' said Tom as he put her hair on her back again -unconsciously combing through them with his fingers- 'found it when I visited my, um...uncle so to speak.' She turned to look at him. 'The beast was lying there dead and it'd be such a waste not to take samples. But I long drained its poison and reduced it to one third of its actual size so it's fine, it won't harm you. And considering your fascination with dangerous beasts such as this I could not help but make this for you.'

'Oh Tom...so thoughtful of you!'

Suddenly he became a little shy. 'I hope you don't mind I didn't buy it...'

'Are you joking? This is much better than anything anyone has ever bought for me!' He beamed at her, faking relief; he couldn't believe after all these years she was still falling for his tricks. 'Besides, I prefer handmade presents-it shows you care enough to put an effort in it.'

_As if I don't know that, stupid..._

'Thank you Tom, it's lovely.' she finished, hugging him. She couldn't help herself when he was being nice to her but wanting to display her affection.

'Don't mention it.'

'But..._I_ hadn't gotten you anything for **your **birthday...'

'I see no need' he said taking up her spoon and cutting into the tasty pastry resting on the table next to them 'as this was entirely my initiative' when he saw her trying to protest, he shoved the rather big spoonful of cake in her mouth 'but if you still want to get me a present then I'd _really_ like to have a taste if this chocolate goodness.'

.

.

.

Option number one: you just gave it to me.

Option number two: **you're** holding the spoon.

Option number three: there's a whole cake next to you.

Option number four: you know you don't have to ask.

Yet, she managed to say none of them, not because her mouth was so full that she couldn't speak -which, truth be told, did provide a solid reason...- but due to her shock and widely-spread over her body panic when she witnessed Tom actually violating her personal space and her wishes.

He kissed her...again. And it wasn't even like the first time; he practically forced her mouth open with his hand when he squeezed her cheeks! And then he had the nerve to pry the cake away from her tongue with **his**! Feeling his lips massaging hers as he slowly -_very slowly_- ate the cake away, his hands were keeping her there firmly, one wrapped tightly around her waist and the other behind her head, mixing its fingers with her hair all over again.

She felt somehow violated...yet pleasantly so.

As he felt her react overly-surprised, trying to claw her way out with but little success, or even her muscles contract with every little move he made, he was pleased; he wanted to scare her, to make her give up on certain matters but he didn't know how...until a day ago. Then this came to mind and it had sounded satisfying on many accounts. He'd make her drop a few subjects as she'd be too scared he might kiss her again -and she knew that was the threat-, he'd show her he was the one in control while he hadn't forgotten about anything, and he'd get to release a lot of stress. And all with one simple move which would turn out to be very pleasurable.

This is what common people vulgarly call a win-win situation.

Certainly, it was; as the panic-stricken woman tried to claim back her cake and defend her innocence from his clutches any way possible, he was effortlessly doing as he wanted with her. A feeling he didn't get a lot of times-nearly ever. When his hand went from holding her back to travelling around it, unbeknown to him, he could feel skin; the sense elated him. Her skin, soft and brown like milk chocolate, was mixing with his, white and icy fingertips like ice-cream; a sweet combination; a tasty combination...yet an un-matching one. He knew it and that was what excited him all the more.

'Hum, humph' she tried to break away '-s' o'-, sto'-o' but she couldn't 'Tom stop, STOP!'

He finally paid attention, ceasing his sudden fire; he looked at her glazed though, so she wasn't entirely sure if he could actually hear her. It had even felt like he only did as she asked -well, ordered- because he had had his fill. Now that was a very certain way to make someone feel unappreciated.

'Hum...?'

'Tom.'

It was like his name held an imperative behind it, something he should do, but he didn't realize. So he only stared in mild question, might have looked like boredom to her. 'Your hands; I need to stand.'

'Want me to help you up?' he offered good-naturedly.

He annoyed her. Why did he always seem like he didn't remember what the hell he was doing with his hands? 'No,' snapped the girl irritably 'I want you to let me go so I _**can**_ get up.' she explained.

'Oh, sorry.' when the hell did his hand delve under her cloak, sweater and shirt? But, after he elegantly slipped his hand out and away from her now disrupted line of clothing, he smirked. 'But do you really have to get up?' his arrogance was shining through his overconfident gaze 'We're having such a lovely time.'

She became even redder than she already was -_a feat for the ages, _he thought- as she tried to shoot up but failed again and then proceeded to look away vexed. 'No, _**you**_ are; let me go.'

'Not if you don't eat your cake.'

She fired up 'I was **trying to** but then I was interrupted!'

'You won't be again.'

'I don't know that.' she spat.

'I do; finish your cake and we'll both go. Come now, we do have more things to do after this.'

'What? B-b-but you just-...'

'Don't dwell on the past...' he said dismissively as he waved a hand in that same manner but when he saw her gaping turning into an angry frown, he stopped. 'Fine, then let me thank you; it was a nice gift.'

His self-complacent tone was enough to drive her off the deep end! 'Nice?' she tried to stand by righteous anger alone, but that still wasn't enough. 'It was a nice **gift**? That's all you have to say about-!'

'Fine; it was _great_.' She still wasn't satisfied; he rolled his eyes. What else did he have to do for this woman? 'You said if I kissed you you'd hit me unless I presented chocolate cake; I did. So, Camellia dear,' he cut her short, resting his head on her shoulder 'finish your cake, and we'll go.'

She tried to leave again but he held her. '...you are-!'

'Eat.'

She then realized two things: he wouldn't let her go before she finished her piece of cake and he would never act as if he'd just kissed her-in his twisted mind it really was only a belated birthday present. A present he'd asked for and she was sure he was planning to get from the very beginning. No wonder he wanted to be with her alone for a little while...

She started munching down her cake; it tasted very good and she was sorry she had to eat it in such haste but she was currently furious. And of course she wouldn't let him have the rest of her birthday cake; she'd take it with her!

'Slow down lizzy...!'

'*Do' hpik –oo e...liar.' she snapped as she swallowed.

'Oh, I'm hurt.'

She snorted. 'As if.'

* * *

**A/N**: *Don't speak to me

~End! This is it! Rather big one, no? Please review and/or message!


	30. Defining one's life

**A/N**: Oh snap; the reign of preprepared chapters is still stong! I don't mind in the slightest, to be quite honest; inspiration is great no matter when it strikes, as long as you have at least pen and paper. So enjoy the latest installment!

* * *

Chuckling still, they gathered all around the pensive. They had some questions they wanted to make to Hermione both about McGonagall and the memories they saw before this one. It may sound juvenile but due to the fact they were too excited about Quidditch -and speaking to McGonagall- they chose not to talk about it until they finished this one.

'She's certainly touchy...' Ron commented laughingly.

'He did kiss her besides her will.' Hermione accurately pointed out.

'She didn't seem to be too heartbroken about it...'

'Oh shut up Harry!'

'Now Ginny is touchy, too!'

'...don't you boys want to know what I've deduced so far?'

Both men laughed at Ron's joke, thoroughly ignoring the reprimanding glares of their respective wives. Still, Hermione chose to indulge the curiosity they knew they had, and answer the question in their heads as she shook her head resigned to these men's idiocy. They always had this dim-witted sense of humour that she had no idea where they got from and she shamelessly attributed to the fact they were male as she was a friend of theirs and shared common experiences since her eleven years of age yet she still didn't get it.

Hopefully that would keep them occupied enough to stop cackling like school girls...

And they did sober up, a little suddenly too. 'Oh right! Please Hermione...'

She coughed, asserting herself. 'Judging by the behaviour he exhibited towards McGonagall, Michael and other people and having read the book I concluded that he managed to seclude her from the men of her immediate social circle with no exception while the women who remained consisted solely of Jules and maybe another or two, especially ever since Hogwarts ended. While they were still at school, it had proved harder to isolate her from the men at her dormitory but once they graduated, he succeeded! Of course, as soon as she started working at the ministry she started socializing with some new people but the only one who managed to "stick" was one man. He was a co-worker, a fellow unspeakable who remained with her until-...' she smirked 'never mind. No need to give away the ending.'

Both young men deflated. 'No fair...'

'No, it's perfectly so!'

Pouting, they glared, too.

'And what about the whole snogging-Malfoy-thing; I mean if this is in here, he must have found out about it at some point. How did he react?' Ron inquired, trying to relieve the tension.

'Oh? Fairly good observation dear! Well, allow me to say, you'll find out eventually and not even that far along. After all in two memories length seventh year will be over.'

Wow, wow, hold on; seventh year is coming to an end? So soon? And-...well, there have been some big developments as far as their relationship was concerned but they felt they still hadn't seen that one stirring and oh so great moment in their lives that completely defined their relationship. All they've seen up till now had been necessarily fragments but of what it felt like half a puzzle. Not only did they exclusively see things from Tom's point of view -another necessary evil- but they also realized things were a little too one-sided: it appeared as though this girl/dash/woman held the upper hand both in their relationship and his own actions.

But if she truly was such a repressive factor and he apparently knew it then why did he choose to spend time with her on the first place? Evidently, he manipulated her rather successfully but one who has seen these could not deny she had great control over him herself, if not greater, and just one word was enough to stop him. If he knew that and he still allowed her to remain by his side then there was only one explanation: in fact, he had a secret weapon or some way to stop her from being directly a problem. Even if she could guess he was darker, much darker, than an average person, he didn't show her such a degree that would make her suspicious. And if she forgave him about killing...well, then she was indeed in love with him and he did know it.

So they only had to see that one memory where the essence of their peculiar connection-the true core of their interpersonal link.

'So...shall we dive?' Ginny prompted, holding the next silver watery thread over the brim of the pensive ready to spill it.

Hermione didn't wait for anyone to answer and grabbed the small pouch from Ginny's hands and poured it in. They'd go on with this, either they liked it or not 'we shall.' She snubbed and her head was covered in the pensive's floating water...

'She sure is lively about this. I haven't seen her so excited since-...' his smile froze 'ahem, personal.' The spouses cracked up. 'Oh just shut up and follow her!' he snarled annoyed and dived in after his wife...

.

.

.

It was a peculiar setting the two couples found themselves in: men -well, most possibly boys almost adults- dressed in unconventional for their time clothing -to say the least, it looked like clothing knights would wear- while black, long and heavy-looking robes decorated their shoulders, held closed at the front of their chest with a small silver clasp. They must have been made out of silk or something very soft and expensive because they were almost glowing in the dimly-lit room they were holed up in.

The...twenty four, if Harry hadn't lost count, men were forming a circle at the centre of the room while their faces were partly covered: not enough to hide their identities from one another or someone who knew them intimately but enough to fool any stranger. That was enough for the what-appeared-to-be conspiring men, as they did look quite dangerous and underhanded. It almost felt like they were planning to make a human sacrifice; they only thing they lacked in order to look completely like a demented cult was the ceremonial knife that no one carried on their person. Instead, they all had their wands encased in an ornate glass holster...

The room itself was creepily decorated-because they all doubted such a room existed like that all on its own: the chandeliers were not all lit but they were all big, old and imposing, making the atmosphere stifling as they gave the illusion that the ceiling from which they hang was at best 13 inches lower than normal. The candles -that were both the source of light for the chandeliers yet also for the beams all around the room- emitted an almost suffocating scent, or that was how they thought it'd feel just by standing in there. The vapour coming from them was visible, making all feel queasy. Surprisingly, none of the four was a big fan of scented candles...

Yet, the circle seemed to have a beginning and an end: the tallest man of this uncanny company must have signified it as they were all slightly turned towards him, even if he wasn't speaking. In fact, everyone else was whispering between one another but him.

A very bad sensation swirled within Harry's stomach...something told him the tall man was Tom, and this eerie circle was...the very first death eaters.

'My lord, I think we need to look into this matter after all; it causes great disquiet amongst the men.'

'I know how to handle this Abraxas.'

And that verifies it; the tallest man is indeed Tom, their "lord", and the one on his right is Abraxas Malfoy. Oh how predictable...

'My lord, there is a pressing matter I need to discuss with you, too...'

The sound of that voice was familiar; they were sure they had heard it before-maybe Rosier or Nott...?

'The one you mentioned before Stewart?'

* * *

'Which one is Stewart?' Ron asked immediately; he didn't know if he had the memory of a goldfish or not, as Hermione used to tease him, but he couldn't remember for the life of him.

Harry seemed thoughtful. 'I think he's the Avery bloke.' He opined.

'No; it's Lestrange!'

'Are you certain?'

'I'm Hermione Weasly nee Granger, if course I am!'

'I'd agree with her if I were you...' Ginny said in her little sing-song voice...

* * *

'Yes my lord; I really need to tell you about this.'

'...then speak with haste.'

Stewart, that Ron still refused to acknowledge as Lestrange, nodded. 'It has been almost two weeks now that I have noticed a certain pureblood following us around and I believe it was yesterday that he finally managed to find this place...he always waited till I appear and came after me, even if I wasn't coming here. You must know whom I'm speaking of, seeing he is continuously seen around your pet.'

Tom stirred involuntarily upon hearing the word "pet". When any of his death eaters, with the exception of Malfoy of course, said the certain word, they meant none other than the young Miss Adams. And the only annoying and nosy enough pureblood that stalked her was none other than that ungodly Michael Jades.

But if that Michael was now stalking _them_ and he finally found this place, it only meant one thing...sooner rather than later, he'd be bringing Camellia to this place and show her what it was Tom was doing "when no one was looking" like he used to stay when he was badmouthing him. He really wanted nothing else but to rip his tongue out and make him eat it...! But Camellia would probably have a fit if she found out thus he refrained from doing so.

'I see...then I shall do what I think is best. Just answer me this: did he follow us today?'

The man had to think about his answer before giving it. He didn't have a problem with the context of his reply rather the reason he'd be making such an inquiry. What could he have thought of? 'I didn't see him this once my lord, no; not today...what do you have in mind-?'

'Listen, everyone!' Tom's voice boomed throughout the room, suddenly many volumes higher. 'Tonight's meeting shall conclude with these parting words: none of you is allowed to operate outside the strict code and rules we have established already,' he stole a glance at the entrance; he could swear he saw a shadow move 'so I trust none of you would dare do as they wish and then blame it on something as foolish as not knowing. You are now dismissed...'

For the first time Tom left the room before any of the death eaters did; it was surprising to say the least, as all looked at him quite startled for leaving so unceremoniously, but the two who were by his left and right stopped them from chasing after him, finally understanding his reasoning.

Seeing this was Tom's memory though, the four had no more time to examine the reactions any longer as the setting followed the hurried man making a run towards the corridors in a rather random fashion, almost like he picked one by chance.

...but before long, a shadow was seen; it was the same shadow that made him glance before, the same shadow that now made him leave so urgently...the shadow of a man pulling a woman. A shadow of two people running away; Michael and Camellia no doubt.

Blast.

_It _is_ them...!_

'Hey!' he kept running behind them but he figured he might as well make them realize he saw them. 'Hey stop! I can see you-I'm shouting at you!' he kept yelling at them...but the male wouldn't let the female form that now was clearly outlining Camellia slow down who was now looking at him.

_He won't let her do as she wishes! I can see she wants to stop!_

Furious from that thought, he literally sprinted to them; Michael might have been taller, faster and generally bigger and were those two in a contest Tom would have probably lost but not now: now Michael had to drag a reluctant Camellia along and that would definitely slow him down.

And it did! Now not only did he see Camellia but also the obnoxious pure-blooded bastard that was pulling her! He was a mere foot away...

'KYAH~!'

'OOF!'

'Caught you!'

Tom tackled them, attacking the weakest link: he made a leap for it and he was rewarded with landing on top of the girl while crushing -literally crushing- Michael's arm in the process...what a success! He could feel the satisfaction as he heard the bones break...

Meanwhile, poor, poor Michael was flailing and banging his other hand on the floor out of sheer pain. 'UGH! Get off my hand Riddle, you're breaking it! It hurts, damn it!'

_Music to my ears..._ 'The tense is wrong: I broke your arm. It has already happened. And it's up to you Jades, I'm doing nothing. You can just let go of her. Aren't I right Camellia dear?'

Michael was glaring at him so strongly Tom thought he was inaudibly cursing him! Well, that wouldn't be too much of a problem since all this pureblood knew well was Quidditch.

Yet, the blond man, seeing he wouldn't be giving him any breaks, withdrew his hand. 'Why is it that every time I ran into you in _her_ company, you end up on top of her?'

_Oh come on, that's asking for it._ 'Maybe it's just the natural order of things...'

'You wish Riddle!'

'Can someone pay attention to me here? I'm the victim! Tom gerroff me!'

All this time she was patiently waiting for him to remove himself from her person seeing he was looking deeply into her eyes while speaking -that sexy, seductive stare that she felt bore into her very soul that made her blush to say the least- thus he certainly hadn't forgotten about her, but still no progress was made!

So, she'd take matters into her own hands... she must have thought as she made a futile attempt to shove him. Futile because she didn't succeed after all and instead of standing up, he sat up on her stomach. 'Oh! Tom~!'

'Riddle! How dare you?'

'Oh shut up; both of you shut up. Just tell me what the bloody-hell were you thinking spying on me and then just running off like that? And you Jades-I know you were the one who dragged her along seeing you've been doing this for two weeks now...'

Michael gulped, turning white. 'Y-you know I've been following you...?'

'You're not the definition of stealth, muscles.' He coloured. 'So spit it out already...or I'm never standing up.'

'Whatever we were doing, you've no reason to lecture us! What about you? You're the leader of that band of racist pureblood freaks who want to...destroy all muggleborns or something! _You_ are the leader. Do you know what that means?'

_Oh fuck! How the hell did this piece of shit found out about this? OK, play it calm, he doesn't really know anything..._ 'Oh please! Just because we're wearing ostentatious clothing and carry ourselves a certain manner does not mean-!'

'But I heard you-_we_ heard you! They called you their "lord"-what did that mean? They are blood supremacists and they are calling you lord-why would they do that?'

'D-do you really believe that, too Camellia...? That I could ever be what he says...?'

When the going gets tough, just play innocent...or offended. It usually works! But maybe it didn't this once.

'Then why would they be calling you "lord"? And they aren't even all Slytherins-I recognised some from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor! Speak the truth snake!'

'Oh, a bunch of purebloods decided to play it god over the muggleborns and you think they would appoint **me**, _a half-blood_, as their lord? Oh please! You are being ridiculous...'

Besides joking, Tom made a pretty good argument but ironically so did Michael. Yet she really didn't want to believe him because that meant Tom was-...no. 'Well...you have to admit that does make some sense Michael...but then again why did they call you lord Tom? What for? Is this...in any way sane? What's happening?'

...damn that Michael. He might not have convinced her but now he planted the seed of doubt within her. That was always the worst thing when it came to relationships, it was what Malfoy had warned him about, and now he could see why: somehow, he felt they would never be the same again if she left here untrusting. He could see it now in the way she was looking away at her side, how she had averted her eyes, how she was tearing up. 'And you have called me a mudblood before...' she barely said; her voice was breaking.

All of her happy memories were slowly being crashed; was he really a muggle and muggleborns hater? He did have the influence and what she said was true but...she didn't want to believe it. Not for her best friend, her crush, the man she loves! Besides, if he were then what was the point of being with her? Did he feel nothing at all? Was he just toying with her? How could he-...?

He saw it; he was losing this argument so had to come up with a very convincing lie...and he just did!

'I would n-...this, this looks bad, I know but hear me out: I really dislike muggles and **some** muggleborns grate on my nerves but I don't want to kill them.' _tch, if I keep saying all these lies eventually I'll start believing them. _'I only joined them' he pretended he was afraid to speak more in case anyone passed by '...to keep these people in line. I swear to you, I did nothing else.' He added seeing the looks of disbelief. 'They-...they wanted to hurt you, I heard them saying it. I was...shocked. I needed to stop them somehow...and then they approached me! So I decided, instead of an all-out attack, wouldn't it be smarter to regulate them from the inside? That way not only you, but more could be saved! Didn't the attacks on the people stop during the fifth year when Myrtle died? That's when I joined them, they were planning on-' he pretended he couldn't go on and looked the other way...never getting off of her.

The silence that followed, they all knew what it meant: "they were planning on killing you". So he, like the very good friend he was, he sacrificed his individuality and went into the den of the beast just to protect her. Nice guilt trip he was dumping on her.

'I'm sorry, I knew I should have told you but I didn't want to implicate you even more...and now this happens. I never thought you'd find out about this. And' he thundered Michael with a vicious glare 'it's all because you put your nose where it didn't belong' he said accusingly with renewed vigour 'and you try to turn her against me! Just because I was trying to protect her without her knowing...'

Michael felt horrible; not only did he not manage to break them apart he actually managed to bring them closer. 'If that is so then why do you suddenly own up to all of this now? What happened to "secretly" protecting her?'

'Of course I didn't want to scare or worry her with my own problems and make her think she owed me anything but I do prefer making her feel a little bad to losing her.'

He turned to her; she felt his eyes as they gazed upon her, warm and imploring; she couldn't help but look back. And she found nothing else but his -unusually- large eyes staring right at her just as she imagined them only desperate, too-desperate for acceptance, to be trusted. But when he actually leaned down and hugged her -_more like lying on my boobs, pervert_, she thought a little bashful yet a lot relieved- she really hadn't seen it coming.

'You're too precious to lose over one envious bastard who thinks he deserves you more than me just because his wallet is fatter.'

He let go off her as he shot a very demeaning look at Michael's direction that -by now- was so mad and red one thought he could explode at any moment

He was stupid, stupid, stupid! How could he have been so stupid? Of course he would turn everything around and make it look like Michael was the bad guy! He always did! 'I never said that! I never even hinted that! I only think you don't deserve her because you're a back-stabbing bastard!'

'Opposed to-!'

'Michael!' Camellia silenced both men. 'Please go. And you get off me!'

The blond man looked heartbroken...but she didn't see that. She was pointedly not looking at him, determined to ignore both, while Tom was weighing the situation. This couldn't have gone better for him. If he played his cards right he might as well be permanently rid of him. The thought that had crossed his mind so many times could just as well be a reality as of tonight!

When Michael stood up and started distancing himself he looked back. 'I don't see you getting off of her Riddle.'

'I don't see you gone Jades...'

'Stop fighting!'

Wow; he almost looked hurt. Michael, that was. 'I'll see you back in the dormitory in a while. I'll _wait _for you.' he said in the end, sprinkling his tone with strictness and warning.

She understood the implication... 'OK; I won't be long.'

Once he was out of sight completely, Tom stirred; he started but stopped, lying completely over her, like she was a mattress or a pillow. 'Tom, what-!'

'You know I'd never do anything to harm you, don't you?'

He looked up to look into her eyes; he cupped her cheek. 'You know I would _never_' he leant too close 'let anyone _touch you_, don't you?'

'...' she knew he was doing this on purpose, he was trying to seduce her...she wouldn't be taken in by his charms, not twice in a year! 'Yeap; only you! Like you are doing now; get off me Tom.'

He rolled his eyes. Why did this woman have to ruin every moment? He was so close-and then she wouldn't be going back to Ravenclaw dormitory any time soon- that would be certain. Had this woman had no romantic bone in her body? Honestly.

'You have no sense of romance d'you know that?' he snapped as he shook his head, finally standing.

'I don't mind that.' _Of course you don't, you sadistic practical nitwit._ 'Now we really have to go or else a teacher might spot us and I bet it will be ugly.' She finished as they started walking away.

She could have grown a second head and he still wouldn't have given her such a look. 'I'm head boy.'

'But "teacher" still outranks you.'

'I'll say I caught you out of bed and I already had points taken away.'

'And they will definitely believe you, since Dumbledore **hasn't** repeatedly asked teachers not to cut you any slack, especially if see with me.'

'Ooh, forgotten about that.'

'I bet.'

'Don't be mean...'

They walked the rest of the way in silence; it turned out that in this part of the castle the head boy's dormitory was closer than hers and he so very discreetly tried to guide her there...but she didn't bite. She made him follow after her every step of the way -by going unnaturally fast for her standards or not going the way he wanted- and then, when they were getting close to the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room, she stopped.

'Enough; I can go the rest of the distance alone.'

'You don't want me to leave you to your doorstep? What if someone attacks you?'

'Like whom?'

'Like Michael who is lurking in waiting in the shadows. Who hates me and always badmouths me for no other reason than...he hates me.'

'Oh you noticed 'im, did you?'

He fixed her with an angered glare. 'Why in earth would you want to be alone with him? He'll simply say more despicable things about me.'

'I want to talk to him seriously and when you're around he gets irrational. I calm him...'

'So do tranquilizers why don't we use these?'

He was actually being serious, wasn't he? Even if he was joking she could see it in his eyes. '"We" won't do anything-_I_'ll go and talk to him. Now shoo Tom, I need to go there and make sure his head won't spin. OK?'

Her nonchalant way of speaking and her uncaring attitude made him want to just...throttle her!

'I hope his head _explodes_...' he said darkly as he turned on his heel.

'...'

She said nothing; she only shook her head and went to her friend who looked more than relieved when she fell into his field of vision...

She thought he was gone, but he never left. As soon as he pretended he disappeared towards the hall that led to his dorm, he casted an invisibility spell on himself and hid behind a wall, close enough to hear them. He loved spying on people but when it came to Camellia...it was like a secret sinful pleasure. It was both mandatory -or else he would never know what the hell she was thinking- and dangerous -if she ever caught him he would be skewered and then hanged by his toes as an example-. Yet that was what made it all the more exciting.

The closer he went, the more he could hear; she was talking to Michael like a mother would to a child, to a bad behaved one. '...so don't be like that. You never really liked him, I know that, but I do; he's my best friend.'

Michael was lost; he appeared not to know which way was up and which was down. She didn't like the colour his face suddenly took -even if Tom seemed to relish the moment he lost his footing and almost collapsed- and she rushed to help him -something that Tom obviously frowned upon as he almost became visible-.

_Petty bastard! And why is she still with him? She should have let him fall!_

After she held him for a second or two, she started growing impatient; she could swear she felt something brushing against her butt. 'Michael...'

'Yes?'

'Don't you think it's about time you let go of me now?'

'Oh right...'

Before he does though, Tom made sure he shot a little spell directly at her perky bottom, who was sticking out...

_**Slap!**_

'Ouch! What was that for?'

She glared at him so intensely she might have burnt a hole on his forehead. 'You don't know? What about your hand on my butt?' she could be driven mad when they pretended they did nothing!

He started mumbling; she rolled her eyes and went inside.

Wait a minute, wait a minute; he was the one who casted this spell...you don't say he'd grabbed her before? Oh this piece of shit-!

'Tom? My lord...? Why haven't you returned yet?'

Malfoy's hushed whisper snapped Tom from his train of thought which started to take rather dangerous twists and turns there in the tracks of his wicked mind; he didn't like others touching what he owned and the case in front of him was definitely included. But Malfoy saved Michael from his impending doom as now the moment passed and they'd already gone inside the dormitory. Come to think of it, no wonder Malfoy sounded perplexed: Tom was glaring at nothing, grinding his teeth...wait; wasn't he invisible? Oh, he must have been furious!

'They just went inside; I wanted to make sure he wouldn't do anything to her.'

'...err, my lord, Michael wouldn't actually _**do**_ anything-.'

The hate in his eyes froze Malfoy's blood. 'Maybe not anything criminal but that doesn't mean he wouldn't harm her...somehow!'

'Of...course my lord' agreed the young death eater, feeling a lump at his throat; he knew arguing with him when incensed was not a smart move 'you are correct. Should we go now?'

He nodded and they started walking away.

'So what **did** you tell her? What could you have possibly said that she believed even after she saw you like that?'

Tom smirked. 'I said I joined the purebloods out of _concern_ for her; I heard that they were trying to kill her and I figured this was the best way to protect her.'

Malfoy laughed; as his laugh resounded through the halls, Tom's thoughts seemed to clear away with it. A most ingenious idea came to mind. 'Malfoy, didn't you say Michael was a good friend of Jules, too?'

Abraxas wasn't sure if he liked the tone Tom employed. '...yes.'

'And didn't you say he tried approaching you before?'

Now he was certain; something wicked had his mind conceived concerning the young pureblood. '...yes.'

'Then let's make the best of it; he only wanted to meet you because you're connected to me and as such he both worries about Jules yet thinks he can make use of you somehow...let's indulge him then. Let's have him meet me privately...'

Tom's mind was racing already...

.

.

.

'Tom, I'm concerned; what will you do to poor Michael?'

'Michael is a lot of things but poor isn't one of them; besides, he agreed to it so what is your problem exactly?'

She fixed him with a rather annoyed glare. Did he really have to ask?

'And there he is; will you please leave us alone now?'

She repeated her previous glare but it didn't work this one; she only shook her head in the end exasperated. They would never ever listen to her-not Tom and neither Michael! Why couldn't they just keep away from one another? This all spelt out disaster if anyone asked her, which of course they didn't and never would since she is the only sane one thus when you are surrounded by crazy people and irrationality has become regular then sanity is truly the odd thought out. Bleh 'fine' was all she said instead and stormed off.

'That certainly doesn't look promising...' Michael commented, seeing how she didn't even look at him while making her exit, but merely clenched her fists and walked away. When Camellia did that it only boded trouble; grim thoughts passed through the young man's mind but he chose to ignore for it now.

'I cannot see why you would make such a comment; she is leaving is she not? Then how would she influence this talk of ours any longer?' he then smirked suddenly and looked very suggestive. 'Are you afraid of her Michael?'

'Of course not...but we both know if she's pissed about something she won't let go no matter what and that only means trouble for future reference.'

'That is...true enough.' He coughed. 'What I wanted to tell you was that you could help me if you like in this undertaking of mine...'

That alone sounded suspicious to the young man, captain of the Gryffindor team with a sharp intuition. Something was bad; there was no way he really wanted to patch things up between them, he never was that sort of person and both he and the girl knew it -which was probably why she left fuming like that-. 'And what sort of use could I have to you?'

'I need a...scapegoat.'

Michael didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the sound of that at all. 'Which means?'

'I need to have someone whom I can blame everything on.'

'And what does that entail?'

'...at first I'll make you a member; then I will make sure you have a high influence. Then I'll falsely tell everyone you did everything while I'll be giving the information to muggleborns.' Michael stared in pure shock. 'Simple no?'

Tom's effortlessness with which he announced he should be risking his life to enable him could make him crazy...! Plus, he was scared shitless with all the things he was telling him to do! He was supposed to come close to death to help the selfish prick! 'But-but I'll be in great danger-they might even kill me when you tell them out of sheer vengeance-!'

'And you think it won't be dangerous for me? If they catch you and you tell them the truth you think they _won't_ believe you? I **am** quite ingenious after all so then I will be in greater danger than you but you don't see me shy away from my task do you?'

That last part sort of threw him off track. 'What do you mean "your task"? We each have one?'

'We both have the same one: protect Camellia. No matter what, this is why we are doing this...' Tom inwardly smirked; he knew Michael would naturally be scared of risking his life -who wouldn't be after all- and he knew he'd be twice doubtful about doing it when it was none other than Tom who made the dubious offer but he also knew how to convince him. He would throw Camellia's name somewhere in there, he would indirectly enough call him a coward, or at least not a man enough to protect the woman he loves and then he would fall like a ripe fruit does off the branch of a tree. Michael always was the macho guy, not the smart one, and even if he had displayed a surprising amount of intelligence in finding them, now he had possibly nothing left to suspect what Tom was really trying to do...

True to his assumptions, Michael started sweating and becoming defensive; he could make out words like "course not" and "for Camellia, I'd..." in between his mumbling so now he knew it was the right time to push for the rest.

'...But if you are too scared to be a part of this, then don't worry; I'll shoulder _all_ the responsibility and the danger since now that Camellia is in the loop at least she'll comfort-!'

'I'm in!'

_And he fell_...Tom had to keep himself from reacting in any other way than surprise.

'Oh? How come?'

'...well, Camellia won't be thankful only to you; you've been spending too much time with her lately and I don't like it. She likes you, I get it, you're her best friend but I'm her friend, too and I think you're not good enough for her. So, if I do this, she'll start spending more time with me and less with you.'

Tom pretended to be dissatisfied with his way of thinking and not the fact he just proclaimed he doesn't like him and he'd do things in his power to keep him away from her. 'Aha.'

Michael started firing up. 'Yes; aha. You aren't good enough-you were never good enough for her! You are nothing but a racist, small-minded and self-interested git! She might not be able to see it...yet but I will make her see it eventually! You might have her fooled with this whole "golden boy" act but I'm not buying it-the only reason I'm even accepting this whole farce is so I can keep an eye on you from the inside!'

He was not good enough? Michael said that to _him_? He was starting to get pissed; as if it wasn't enough the dim-witted accident -he was sure Michael was an accident, no doubt about it- claimed he saw through his ruse and he is only allowing Tom to use him so that he can use him in return...! All he could think about was that; he wasn't good enough. Well, who was he to judge?

'And you think you're good enough for her instead? You think you deserve her-maybe buy her like you buy everything?'

'This is not about money-!'

'Of course it is; the rich bloke is used to getting everything he wants and if not with his money then by influence so when neither works he gets aggressive and violent! So you can't have Camellia and you attack me because she's playing favourites and obviously I'm that! What will you do now, huh? Hit me? Or maybe you'll attack her instead, huh?'

'I'd never even _dare_-!'

'Oh that is what you all say; and then, if you deem her too independent you try teaching her a lesson!'

Michael was absolutely horrified; 'I resent that!' he shouted hotly, trying to counter his ridiculous accusations. 'That is what someone like you would do, uncultured and biased who thinks because he is an orphan who has come this far you own the world and your friends with it!' that was actually true but he wasn't about to own up to it 'but I love her! I'd never do anything to harm her! If I wanted to do that, I'd have forbidden her to see you a long time ago!'

'You are disillusioned if you think you could keep her away from me, either you wanted it or not! In fact, I should be saying that-I have much more influence on her than you! But you're still allowed to talk to her, are you not?'

'Oh please! If you **could** help it, I'd never even see her again-it's no secret you hate me Riddle! You hate me as much as I hate you, it's no secret and quite honestly I don't even care but don't you try to pass as a big shot; she never does something she wouldn't want to.'

'Then I can say you're full of crap, too!'

'...'

Tom had started seeing red; it was a good thing Michael was not that challenging of an argument partner or else he'd been much more distressed by now and who knew what he'd be doing...he thoroughly despised this blond in front of him. He was doing all in his power to slander Tom and he'd just admitted he tried sabotaging him many a times. Either Tom had seen this coming or not, he considered it great disrespect to be treated like that by a blood traitor, a fallen pureblood, a stupid fucking ape!

So he'd seen through his plan he says? So what, says Tom! He still had him exactly where he wanted, as Michael could no longer turn the offer down and they both knew it, and would he wish it, the annoying nosy brat would be taken out of the picture in an instant.

Tch, to have the nerve to stand up to him; all of them Ravenclaws were wrongly placed in their dormitory-only Gryffindors could be so foolhardy. Maybe if he gave him a taste of that right now-...no. People would see him and it was still too fresh, Camellia would believe Michael.

He took a deep breath. He relaxed...

'I'll present you to the rest of the circle tomorrow; try not to do anything stupid. And no word to Camellia before you formally join them got it?'

He nodded curtly in reply.

'And be presentable when meeting them; no Quidditch gear, no athletic wear, not even your uniform. All formality is required.'

'Alright.'

'Very well then; I shall be taking my leave.' He actually took a small bow as he said that and fixed his robes. 'Say goodnight to Camellia for me, I won't be able to see her today.' he remarked to the blond man as he walked away, his back now turned.

'Thank God...'

Tom smirked; he turned to him from a few feet distance. 'Oh...because there is no other way for you to _ever_ find out and I know you're wondering, Camellia-...she tastes like _bitter chocolate_.'

He gave him a wondered look. 'Heh, why-...' It took a moment or so for the blond man to compute; how the hell did _**he**_ know what she tasted like? Did that mean he'd kissed her-?Or maybe done more!

_No!_

'Come back here right this instant Riddle!'

But he disappeared behind a wall, his malevolent cackle echoing through the corridors...

Tom smirked; that was one pawn well played. He'd keep him three times more occupied than he originally was and what with his Quidditch practise and the professional career he wanted to follow he'd barely have time to tie his shoe laces as personal time, thus seeing Camellia would now be nothing more than a distant memory.  
Oh he was so good when he was bad!

.

The pensive swirled once more and they were in their own time again.

* * *

**A/N**: End! And Hogwarts is ending next chapter! Ooh I'm so excited! I have this planned in my head for so long I love I finally get to this part! Please review and/or message!


	31. Graduating life

**A/N**: Something's wrong with me. I've been keeping deadlines... :3 On with the story; guess what's finally happening...

* * *

The four young ones landed in the great hall; it han't the ordinary decoration, though. It looked festive: bright colours of blue and bronze, red and gold, green and silver, yellow and black embroidered flags that none bore the dormitory crests, merely their names. The tables hosted vases which in turn held flowers, beautiful and wild. In one there'd be flowers in a certain dormitory's colour and in the next there were flowers in all the rest dormitories' colour, in each table alternatively.

All of the seventh-year students were standing next to one another -in alphabetical order, they realized- directly in front of the teachers' tables; not only were they in an alphabetical order though, they were mixed boy and girl alternatively: boy Slytherin, girl Ravenclaw, boy Hufflepuff, girl Gryffindor and so on so forth. First on the Ravenclaw line was Camellia; well, given her last name was "Adams" then it was only natural...  
The headmaster was in front of the podium and he had just finished giving his speech.

It was their graduation ceremony.

'And now a word from your fellow student and classmate, a senior, graduating with top grades in all of his chosen classes, a head boy and a prefect before that; please welcome Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

.

.

Clapping broke out all over the hall from students and teachers alike, as the said young man who was dressed in all formality -polished shoes, check; head boy badge, check; ever pointy hat, check- strutted to the podium. There, he stood next to the headmaster, towering over the man. He looked as if he owned the world. Self-complacent, he looked overjoyed to be standing there.

He cleared his throat. 'My fellow students, my classmates, teachers of this great institute and headmaster Dippet; I thank you all for being here and making Hogwarts the amazing school it is which allows people of all classes, standings and origins to be taught the noble art of witchcraft and wizardry.

To all of you who have just started here, may I wish a pleasant journey-a journey full of knowledge and wonderful new experiences whilst within these walls. To all those who have been here for more than a year, I suggest...patience! You will get used to the detentions at some point.'

His audience laughed; only when they stopped did he go on again.

'But most importantly, I want to remind all of my classmates that this _last year of Hogwarts_' his voice strained 'was an end of an era as much as it was the beginning of another one.'

He stopped to give time to his audience to understand what he was saying, but the one he cared for the most was the first girl in the Ravenclaw line. 'Don't dwell on melancholic thoughts such as this is the end of something good but rather, this is the start of something even better;' he stole a glance at Camellia; she noticed and looked away blushing 'this is the moment of truth; not only are we judged for what we know but also on how to apply this knowledge for the benefit of our society; now we get to truly test ourselves for the very first time.

So this may be an end but it is also a bright new start!' he glanced at her again the most discreet way he could -seeing she, as the rest of his classmates, was standing behind him- earning a chuckle from his Slytherin classmate. 'A bright new start for a bright new era full with new potential and promises; it is the time to settle old scores' he said suddenly more business-like and pointed 'to _make_ our **decisions** once and _for all _and eventually open the new chapters of our lives that will lead us to better self-understanding. My classmates' he turned about and faced all of the seventh years who by now were giggling and whispering between themselves...but Camellia of course who was deep red yet serious. Still, he winked at her before turning to the rest again 'my fellow students and staff, I wish you all the best.'

He could hardly hear his own voice; before he finishes his sentence, his classmates were buzzing with excitement and gossip as to why he winked at her; after he finished, the cheering and the clapping that broke out as numerous hats dived into the air, smothered any other sound. Smiling, he took a short bow for courtesy purposes and went back to his original place, next to the head girl.

'Brilliant speech Tom.' she commented amused.

'Thank you dear.'

'Why you're very welcome; I particularly enjoyed the part where you emphasized on the importance of settling old scores and making a fresh start...'

'You **always** paid great attention to detail Lucinda.'

'I just hope she agrees with you.'

'...need you remind me?'

'Well, you reminded her...'

He gave a wicked smile. 'I sort of like you, you know that? _Even if you enjoy reading the accursed poets..._'

'T-Tom...!'

_'...and let the feast begin!'_

All the while the headmaster was speaking a few parting words to the students and then gave the word for the festivities to start: the foods and drinks appeared on the tables, appetizing the young people; just then, the seniors were released, too, as they'd already received their diplomas. They all ran to their respective tables, save one long and brown-haired seventh-year who fled all too delicately from the back door.

.

.

Camellia was leading him away from the crowd in a hurry; either that was too good or too bad. He would only know when he reached her though, so he made haste to catch up. With a pat on the back for encouragement from the head girl next to him, who was now chuckling almost as much as Jules, he followed after the bane of his existence.

She percepted him but kept up her pace and he realized she didn't want to be caught before they reached their destinations; honouring her unspoken wishes, yet promising himself this was the last time it happened -at least for this year-, he stayed behind and watched the turns she took carefully...but then he realized: she wasn't leading him to her dormitory **or** his but...to the room of requirement! That only made that feeling that a hand was gripping the pit of his stomach and his chest stronger. He realized this was it: she might be rejecting him -and he wasn't sure how he'd deal with that-, and she might actually say yes -and he wasn't sure how to deal with that even more-. After all, if she rejected him, he knew what to do, anger was easy to him; but what about acceptance? What was he supposed to feel then? Happy? Satisfied? What if he didn't? Would she understand? Would she be understanding?

Before he had time to compute the situation, he had already closed the door behind him; he was now inside the room, no one else but the pair of them...in a very comfy living room. Should he take it as a bad sign that this wasn't even a hint of a bedroom? Well, that might only mean she had no intention of having sex with him -which was actually quite expected from her-.

'Tom...'

'Camellia.'

He went from the threshold where he was casually leaning against to her and sat down. She was already sitting there "casually" yet there was nothing relaxed about her: she was on the verge, her hands clasped tightly, rested on her feet and her back rigid. She too was nervous.

He considered that to be a good thing.

But he opted a comfortable approach for himself: sitting deep in, he crossed his feet while his long arms stretched out behind him. 'Been waiting for me?'

'Yes; I believe there is a matter we need to resolve.'

'Quite right.' he remarked.

But no one spoke...

'Well?' he prompted; he started losing his patience.

'Well what?'

'Well, aren't you going to speak? I spoke last which signals it's your turn now!'

'There is no such rule!'

'Yes there is; and if it isn't an actual rule, I'm making it now!'

'N-no fair!'

'Whoever said it was?'

She pouted; she even crossed her hands and stared...but he didn't give in. 'Fine; I'm speaking... So what's your decision?'

'Oh you'll be turning this over like that to me? Hell no; ladies first.'

'No' snapped Camellia emphatically 'in such occasions ladies shouldn't go first; it shows bad manners. So...do you still want us to date?'

'Do you still want us _not_ to?'

He'd starting losing is temper now, too; tapping his foot on the floor, he decided she wouldn't do whatever she liked. Ιt had to stop. No matter how cute she looked blushing like that and biting her lip and playing with her hair, he wouldn't give in first. So what she was mortally embarrassed? So what she was so nervous he could actually hear her heartbeat? He'd suffered enough of her whims and it would stop now.

'Tom we can be at this all day' suddenly she snapped as she looked at him 'it all comes down to what you really want. So what is it?'

'Oh now you want to know what I really want because it's convenient to your schedule? What if I wanted one thing till yesterday and now it's different?'

'Tom, you agreed to this time limit, too-!'

'Only because you left me absolutely no other choice than agreeing with you; but now that I see how arbitrary and selfish this is!'

'Oh please; you're one to talk? The only _**one**_ thing I asked of you was to not pick this up immediately but I never asked of you to wait if you didn't want to! If you did then that is your issue, not mine!'

'Oh, so I should have just snogged every other broad that came my way even if I couldn't bring myself to care for them the same way I care for you?'

'...I never said that. Look, you're not the only one who's been _waiting_ all this time so don't be sour, OK?'

'I didn't do this to myself, you did so don't whine about it! Only I can whine about it. Besides, I'm not bitching about the fact I had to wait but because I had to wait _to this day_; I mean, what would the big difference be if we had this conversation a week ago?'

She rolled her eyes to that. 'We didn't even see each other then...'

He rolled his eyes, too; really, _she_'d do that to **him**?

'Oh please, you get what I mean; what's the big difference? Ever since seventh year you've been acting so...possessive with me-and lemme tell you that definitely sends the wrong message!'

'Oh and you've been sharing tea and giggles with the people that surround _me_, right?'

'I was open about what I wanted-.'

He stopped talking; accusing or scaring her he knew wouldn't give him the desirable result. And it was always a plus to pretend to be thoughtful, even if he never actually was…well, maybe in his own twisted and sick way he might have been but he was definite her and him didn't have the same definition of the word.

'All I'm saying is, you have me on bloody edge ever since two years ago and I've had enough. I want to hear your answer: do you want me or not?'

'I…love you Tom.'

He rolled his eyes 'yeah I know, I'm a great friend-!'

'Will you let me finish? I wasn't going to say **that**..!'

He looked at her with such amazement she felt her cheeks burn bright. She coughed, trying to make him stop staring like that. 'I know it's…forward and usually you have to be **with **someone to say that but…I really love you; I do. I'm just-I'm sorry it took me so long to actually say anything, I just wanted to see if you'd listen to me.'

O...K; he felt numb on many accounts.

What did she mean she loved him? It was too sudden of a declaration, it made him feel...all tingly. It was weird. But there was one more thing that troubled him. 'What is that supposed to mean?' he really wanted to know; you don't just drop a bomb like that and then act like nothing happened. What should he listen to?

'Well, I certainly was unsure of my feelings in the beginning but when I was finally certain there was enough time left but you had all those women circling you, I wanted to be sure why you wanted **me**. I mean, just a woman can be replaced; a person you feel strongly about -no matter what that is-' she added in there hastily as she was in no mood to have him scared by her talk of feelings or think she implied he loved her, too or that she even wanted to hear that; she wasn't naïve to think that was true anyway 'cannot, at least not easily. And you seemed very nonchalant about everything so I guess I was just making sure. Plus, it would be important to see if you'd honour my wishes and do as I say…'

As her speech was progressing, he felt a great deal of emotions ran through him: at first it was annoyance; then arrogance; then anger. How could she manipulate him like that? By doing this not only did she assert herself in the end, she also made perfectly clear who would be the one truly leading this relationship. But somehow, he couldn't help but feel a grudging admiration and a certain amount of respect. She was smart, she did worth the while.

Μaybe with a couple of tweaks here and there...

'So you're telling me this entire time you were silently torturing me so you could make sure my feelings for you were more than passing excitement and to be certain I'd comply with your self-created rules thus tricking me into submission?'

'Um…yes? Though _nearly as conniving and malevolent as you're making it out to be_.'

He gasped offended as he pretended repulsion. 'Oh really?'

'Yes?'

But she seemed lost more than worried; why was he being so touchy all of the sudden? Did he not himself deploy similar methods in the past to-?

'Well, truth be told it's kind of sexy.' he said offhandedly and "miraculously" his whole demeanour, even his stance, changed; he stalked to her from the sofa, trapping her between him and the arm of the furniture. 'I love that quality in a woman…'

She flared up immediately, but he didn't allow her to look away, not this once; he was so close to her by now, all he had to do was breathe a little harder and she'd shake all over. It came almost naturally to Tom when he placed her chin between his fingers and leaned in to kiss her.

This was the perfect opportunity: that suppressed never-fading lust he harboured for her -which was also created by her-, a feeling rooted to the unexpected pleasure and satisfaction he derived just from kissing her would finally be satured.

It took no longer than a moment for both youngsters to remember that burning sensation that rushed through them when they first kissed; for a seond he was certain he'd lost ability of coherent thought. What he was doing, why he was doing it-he didn't care; he only cared for that unmistakable sense of quenched desire he felt the more he kissed her, the more he explored her.

He could feel the fabric on his fingertips, the skin -soft curvecious skin- and the hair; long messy strands of brown staining his white knuckles and his face. He enjoyed playing with her hair; they were never more groomed than just brushed through and he loved the unkemptness, it made her look wild.

He enjoyed playing with her hair now, too but he enjoyed the most the taste of her, as his tongue danced with hers and explored the caverns of her mouth.

He couldn't get enough; he could only push or push back in this delightful close quarters combat that allowed for no space between the contestants. Her arms were squeezing him too close while her legs had found their way in between his; he felt himself rise with desire -her moans and grunts of approval, appreciation and requisition were most ego striking- that its ferocity surprised him.

What he also thought as most note-worthy was also the significant, but barely percepted fact that when he was with her, engaging in such activities, he felt the same as when he'd black out: he didn't know what he was doing but he knew he had no intention to stop. Mainly, because it felt too good to be denied…

When they finaly broke the kiss, gasping for air, he slowly opened his eyes; he was lying on the floor on top of an extremely breathless Camellia, who was looking up at him glazed. As time seemed to stand still, they kept staring at one another wordlessly; he didn't know if she dragged him or he dragged her down with him -or both-, but he relly couldn't care less. The only thing that mattered was the undeniable feel of complete satisfaction at one moment and then absolute dissatisfaction the next; she only left him wanting more. He wanted her in all of the carnal meanings the word could get; he wanted her.

As he changed from breathless to hungry, he looked her over again; all the while he hadn't realized their robes were discarded -he swore he was wearing them when he entered the room- while her clothing too looked different from ten minutes ago: in all truthfulness, she looked like a person about to be raped. Somehow, that excited him...

He leaned in again his own lust mirrored in her eyes...

* * *

'Um, guys...we should stop watching...' Ron commented astounded yet most coloured.

'Yeah; it looks like he's-well, ready to-...' Harry agreed just as uncomfortable trying not to see anything else -yet not actually succeeding-.

The two women chuckled. 'Nothing else will happen between them; you think if it did he'd show us-I mean anyone? Please...' Hermione said amused at the two men's sudden bashful nature.

'That's true...'

* * *

'T-Tom, we should stop...we should go pack our-.' she said finally breaking the kiss, trying to put some distance between them with her hands; he grabbed her though and pushed them down.

'Hush Camellia; just do what I want and shut up.'

'Shut _up_-?'

He smirked, seeing he was clearly overpowering her and she was trying to talk her way out of this, and pushed it further as he rendered her completely immobile; 'Camellia sweetheart, just let me be the man for once...'

'I don't-!'

He sighed... 'Do you **want** to die a virgin woman?'

The question threw her completely off; she just stared there in shock-she didn't know what was more shocking: the blunt way he put the fact he wanted to have sex with her or the fact he expected it to happen now? But her shock rendered her completely speechless, thus away with the last of her defences. But as he leaned closer, his eye caught the time...oh no!

'Oh fuck; I have to go...!' and he truly looked regrettable 'I promised I'd meet with the guys for-...um, you know what. I mean I was-err, you know.' he mumbled, suddenly getting off of her.

Wow, that was a wondrous change of mood! 'Oh...well, I can't say I mind or that I don't anyway but since you already have other plans...'

'Oh believe me, if it was a matter of choice I would never dream of leaving you...'

She giggled at his suggestiveness; she giggled because she discerned the truthfulness in his statement. As sad as it was to know her best friend...hum, now it was boyfriend -that would take some time getting used to- and one of her good male friends were being a part of a muggle-hating group and risking their lives because for her, it was also quite ego-striking. Still, she felt a tiny little bit worried for their safety...

But then she remembered something; as she watched him fumble with finding and putting on his clothes, she circled him. 'Say Tom, you know I'll be moving out from my parents' house right?'

'So?' he asked absentmindedly as he was trying to un-wrinkle his clothes and fix his most troublesome tie.

She noticed he wasn't paying enough attention to her so she decided to change tactics: she brought him his robes and helped him into them. 'Oh thanks.' he said pleasantly surprised. It was truly a novelty for the girl to do something like that...

'You're very welcome;' she said as she straightened the front of the robes 'anyway, I just thought you should know Jules and I have already gone apartment hunting...'

_Jules and I? Does this mean they'll be staying together...? Oh no, that doesn't suit me at all..._

'...and?'

'We found some lovely apartments!' she used plural that was a close one. 'I just thought you'd want to know is all...and maybe tell me if you have done the same.'

...so this was what this was all about. 'Oh, don't worry. I already have; Abraxas and I went together-well, mine can't possibly compare to his but...it's a home.'

She laughed. 'I know, I can say the exact same thing about Jules' and mine-hers is like a whole building mine is barely half a floor!'

'That's what you get when you have rich friends...'

* * *

That was a cruel undeniable truth, Ron thought somewhat sour. He felt a little disgusted he had something like that in common, but then again he had used him quite well that year when he was wearing the locket around his neck-he almost did something irreversible...

Tch, the son of a bitch!

* * *

'Anyway; be careful and try not to do anything reckless, OK?'

He smirked at that; she was so cute being ignorant of his true purpose thus worrying about his safety. 'I will, darling; you shouldn't worry about me. If anything it's the other way round.'

'...you know I'll be fine either way right? Now that I know someone **is** out to get me and I'm not just being paranoid then I can take perfect care of myself. You don't have to put yourself in harm's way like that.'

'You know I won't be at ease any other way; don't make me repeat myself.'

She sighed. 'Just don't do anything that if I knew, it would make me want to pound on you.'

He laughed; 'deal' he said hastily as he planted a quick kiss on her lips. She shook her head amused... 'Meet me on the train once you get on OK? I'll be waiting at our usual compartment.'

'We have a usual compartment?'

'Yes dimwit; the one we always bump into each other.'

'Oh; that one.'

He rolled his eyes amused. 'Where ever did I find you?' as she stuck her tongue out he just said suggestively: 'make sure you finish telling Jules all about this **before** you enter the train. I want us to be _completely _alone...' and then truly disappeared behind the double doors, leaving her alone...

* * *

**Α/Ν**: End of chapter~!

...Yes. Ιt happened. No more drama on that part. Now we get on the real "hot" stuff like murders and parents! Muahahaha!


	32. A long summer

**A/N**: I did not miss the deadline I didn't I didn't I didn't. In fact this has been waiting here for a long time...so on with it. Finally.

* * *

They looked around wondered upon arrival; they had never seen this place before in the entire recount. What new place could this have been?

The most possible alternatives were either Tom or _Camellia's_ new apartment, judging by the size and the decorations in the room. Yet, the colours of the walls as well as the way the certain room was furnished, it led them to believe it was Camellia's: grey and bluish walls depressing-looking, but touched with the subtle optimism she always harboured; small "female" objects on the desk under the sole window of the room made it look like a strict but a woman's desk nonetheless.

Yet why was it that Tom was sitting there with his back hunched over what he was writing, looking like he owned the place?

'Camellia dear, have I told you about my plans for this summer?'

She was sprawled on the sofa, idly playing with her wand. But suddenly she stopped.

'Tom it **is** summer.'

'No, it's only the start of summer; _since dear Armando chose not to make me the professor I wanted_...'

She giggled. She'd told him about a hundred times Dippet would _never_ give it to him...but he'd fervently supported the opinion he'd just hand it over because he was his favourite student. So not only was this a personal affront to the man's persuasive skills, it also became a "shame" of sorts, between him and her, a lost bet.

She was correct and he wasn't. A small defeat; he hated losing.

Still, she deemed him a little too miffed over something so natural especially because there was no real offense intended. Plus, she would never understand his obsession with being perfect and doing every little thing he planned. Sometimes slaps in the face by life served their purposes.

And she'd even tried to prepare him for it but when Tom was pigheaded...nothing could affect his decision or his point of view.

Of course, had he been able to see her giggle -as she did it so silently he wouldn't hear her- he'd probably hex her for it with one of their own personally developed hexes nonetheless.

'Alright, I'll bite; what will you be doing for the most of the summer Tom?'

Suddenly, he stopped doing whatever it was he was occupied with and straightened his back. 'Oh, it's nothing really' said he, as he turned around and went to the lounging woman 'just a small last-minute kind of thing.'

He tried to sound as inconspicuous as he could, prying the wand out of her fingers.

'So I'm sure you wouldn't mind that much to agreeing...'

Taking her bare feet in his hands and slowly rubbing them, he finished his little speech. That alone made her to look at him suspiciously; very suspiciously.

'And what is it that requires such introduction and theatrics?'

She knew it would be something that would actually drive her off the deep end, if he went into such trouble as putting his studies aside and even massaging her legs.

'Well, I was just thinking...do you remember the horcruxes I talked to you about?'

She frowned in thought. 'Those pieces of dark magic left in the books of occult old people?'

'Yes. Exactly that _but do you have to say it like that_...? Anyway, you can understand, merely studying one can land you in the list of most important wizards of all times! So I was thinking of doing it for the next couples of months. Alone. And maybe look for one...'

Her eyes narrowed almost immediately; no matter how against picking up stuff like that she was and even including the fact he knew it, the certain sentence certainly didn't require so much effort put into it to announce it. Which only meant there was more... 'And?'

'Are you OK with that?'

'If that is _**all**_, yes; but something tells me there's more to come, isn't there?' He stood there silent, trying to play coy. She fixed him with a demanding stare. 'Isn't there?' she repeated forcefully.

'...yes...but only a tiny little bit. You see, where I can study horcruxes better is Romania; there is a fo-OH!'

Tom sprang off the sofa shocked just as Camellia tried to attack him!

He looked at her surprised -well, not really but just for appearances sake- and tried to keep her at bay...but she immediately reached him, grabbing his tie.

'What do you mean Romania?' She squeezed the tie in her hand. 'The country Romania in the Balkan peninsula?'

'Yes...'

She shook him violently left and right, left and right mercilessly; -he would never confine it to anyone but he thought it was very sexy she was so "opinionated". Yet, either she knew it or not, she didn't seemed willing to stop anytime soon given it had developed into a habit for the past, well, seven years. Or maybe six. He couldn't entirely tell, truth be told.- why should she stop anyway? It enabled her to get the accurate information she wanted out of people, Tom always included.

'You'll be looking for a Horcrux or a pair _of Balkan boobs_?'

'Darling, did you know you get violent when you're jealous?'

'Well of course I am! I'm jealous and I'm distraught and I'm showing it! How about you showing me how _you_ feel for a change? And how about actually rejecting my theory about some Romanian beauty!'

'...I didn't spend two years waiting to cheat on you with some random peasant woman; and calm down, you're throttling me...'

That last sentence was uttered with the same ease he'd be commenting on the weather, as if she wasn't indeed throttling him.

But she let go of him; and she did it so suddenly he almost fell over. Pacing up and down, her hands on her thighs, she looked furious yet. 'Romania...Romania! All the way to the other side of goddamn Europe! And you want to go alone!'

'If it's any consolation, when I say alone, I quite mean it; not even Malfoy will he be accompanying me.'

She glared, stopping just so she could do so. 'Oh really? Now I'm _so_ relieved!' note the sarcasm. She started pacing up and down again. 'Romania is too far away and-and for the rest of the summer, too? We just started dating! We're only **now** starting to-!'

'I'll write.'

He blurted it out immediately and she "magically" stopped doing anything, only stared. It almost felt like he had practised on how and when saying it. Wow. It almost felt like he was afraid of how she would react and had made sure to throw the solution there before she completely snaps. Apparently he had just succeeded in that...

She narrowed her eyes, almost scanning him for any hint he may be lying to her. 'You will?'

'Yes.' he said almost proudly.

'How often?' she kept on pressuring, still suspicious yet the agitation now seemed less pronounced.

'As often as you like me to, so long it doesn't exceed twice a day.'

She considered; she was softening, he could see it in the wrinkling of her nose as she frowned in thought.

'Once a day or every two days is more than enough, I'm not _that _depended. Besides, you should write me your news-how many news could you have twice in one day...? Unless something happens of course in which case write immediately; things there at the Balkans are still quite dangerous and the war only just ended...'

She was already thinking of his safety, making plans, speculating how and informing him of what he should do and shouldn't do in regards of the just ended war. He smirked. 'Oh darling, are you worried about me? Don't worry, I'll be fine...and speaking of worrying, I think you can understand why I'll be saying this but you are not to leave your apartment if not in the company of Jules and Malfoy **together** and not leave more than three times a week. Believe me, these are dark times for us as well...'

'Oh!' she snapped annoyed. 'Not only will you be gone for most of the rest of the summer to a foreign land full of women, but you also plan on holing me up into my apartment where I can't see anyone else other than people I already know! What's with you? It's about time you told me I can't see Michael-!'

'Of course you won't be seeing Michael! Not while I'm away! Do I look like a simpleton to you? He's been trying to get into your pants ever since he met you! I won't enable him to succeed by hanging around you while I'm away.'

She was too shocked to respond to his paranoia. She only stood there looking at him flabbergasted. Not only did he say to her face he didn't trust her being faithful to him, he also tried to forbid her from seeing her friend while he'd be on the other side of the freaking continent! How could he be so blunt and self-centred-...right, like she didn't know. Pf, yeah!

'What is that look for? You think I'm joking?'

'No...**That** is that look for; I can't quite comprehend the absurdity of this. What makes you think I'll just fall in the arms of another man as soon as you turn your back? I will most certainly do no such thing but I'll do whatever I like.'

'No you won't, I won't let you!'

'And how exactly are you going to stop me? Won't you be a little too far away?'

'Oh is that how it is? Revenge for me leaving? Well, I'll be going there whether you like it or not and _you_'ll be staying in here whether you like it or not! You and I aren't the same!'

She gaped.

'You'll do as I say, yes!'

She literally flung a dish at him. One he poorly dodged.

'I am not your goddamn pet! You won't tell me what to do just as I'm not making you do anything you don't want! If anything you're doing exactly whatever the hell you feel like while I am just strung along!'

He was still quite shocked by the whole airborne plate stunt she just pulled -especially when said plate crushed next to him and some of its bits ended up somewhere on him-; apparently it was the first time she ever did something of the sort and, just for once, they couldn't blame him on how he reacted next: he took a tray in his hands as a shield, holding it with vigilance for the next vicious attack by the woman's crockery -and god forbids cutlery- while he proceeded to snap in a shrill voice: 'Are you mad woman? Did you just throw a plate at me!'

She was getting more and more violent as time progressed; was she possessed throwing and actual projectile like that though? What if he didn't evade? She should be stopped...! But something deep inside him said it wouldn't; it would only get worse. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it and also considering what he purposefully made her go through just for shit and giggles, it served as a decent outlet. So he probably shouldn't make it go away or he might go away with it, too...

'Yes I did; and I shall do it again if you tell me at least one more time anything as ridiculous as I can't go out by myself!'

'Look _honey_' he emphasized the word to remind her just what their relationship was 'I am only trying to do what's best for both. I'm not the enemy here.'

She threw another plate followed by a glass -this once he skilfully deflected them with the tray, like he was a beater in the quidditch field again; oh the memories this brought back- and then she tried to circle him but he kept her at a distance, going the other way.

'Ahem, apparently, you think I am; look, relax, let go of the glass, put it down...that's a good girl...now, you see why I waited till last moment to tell you I'll be leaving?'

She made the notion of catching the glass again, but he let go of the tray and raised his hands in peace. He did it so abruptly, it caused her to let the glass go after all. Neither bothered with the loud crashing.

'I meant I didn't want us to fight and I knew we'd fight so I tried making the best out of it before I leave.'

He saw that made her somewhat bashful as she looked away with her hands tied -she was going on the defensive apparently- and smirked; the plan was working.

'So don't be like that, come on; I promise I'll write to you whenever I get news but in return please promise me you won't be seeing Michael...alone. And you can't blame me can you? The bloke's been telling everyone how he wants you ever since we were fourteen; it wouldn't come as a surprise if he tried anything-and I'm not saying you'd respond but him trying anything is enough.'

She considered. 'Fine; that sounds reasonable. But the "someone" part **will** mean someone; and I mean anyone, other friends, not just people _you_ like.'

'Well...'

'I said! And in return I promise I'll...' she looked away embarrassed to actually suggest such a thing, thinking it was a sign of defeat 'I won't leave the house without telling your trusted spy' _Malfoy_, he immediately knew 'OK?'

'Alright...'

* * *

_Dearest Camellia,_

_Things are rather tough here; it feels as if the war is still ongoing and the older conflicts haven't died down at all. If anything I feel less and less assured of my safety...but as long as I have my wand with me I manage._

_Surprisingly quite a few people seemed to be informed of things such as magic and many who aren't still do not find it otherworldly or unholy; there is a healthy amount of curiosity and a refreshing wave of open-minded people. They are either too friendly or too mean with strangers though and given you know what I am like I find it easier to deal with the overly suspicious ones rather the good-natured ones._

_I have been feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of magical creatures that inhabit these woods though: you have no idea how many beasts and magical beings inhabit the forests of Albania! It is a wonderful sight to behold and quite frankly, I find it overbearing you aren't here to see it with me. I know you are amongst the few people who would truly appreciate this amazing sight as you have the uncanny fascination with dangerous animals._

_I want to know all of your news, too. How is that report treating you? How is Abraxas treating you? And I hope you haven't been doing anything too fun without me._

_I miss you already._

_Tom V._

=:=:=:=

_My sweet Tom,_

_I miss you so much! I wish you were here now that the weather is at its best and the beautiful colours of summer rule nature all around me...! I do so hope that everything has blossomed around you, too._

_And if I'm talking about the bloody-weather, you know I have absolutely no topics to discuss with you._

_My report is going fine but you know I can't discuss it with anyone, so please be just as discreet as you've always been with these sort of matters and don't ask me anything further about it._

_I am quite worried about your safety as well; if the turmoil that's brewing there is reflected in your letters by the fact it took you almost a week to write to me even though it is just the beginning of your journey, I feel greatly disquieted. I want you to be safe at all times and at all costs and I hope you do your best not to provoke anyone or, most importantly, the wrong people._

_I want you to write immediately and do not fail to meet your deadline again; I am getting impatient and anxious._

_I want you to tell me of any advances in your research too so don't keep things from me, alright? I know when you're lying, too!_

_I love you,_

_Red C._

=:=:=:=

_Cam,_

_Things are getting rather dangerous. The whole village is in uproar -and I swear I had nothing to do with it-. Obviously the voivode -the person who holds the rank of the lord here in case you didn't know- has done some misdealing that people have just found out about and they are coming towards his house with pitchforks and torches. It would be nearly as alarming had I not been living in his house but I am and I am right in the middle of it. And these mobs can be quite uncontrollable._

_I am not really concerned though..._

_So if you're wondering as to why I'm writing then let me tell you that reading in your letters you're disconcerted about me makes me want to transcript these facts to you right away. I love making you worry about me._

_My research is also going fine; I have made groundbreaking progress and I hope in the next two weeks I will have finally harnessed the idea completely! Of course the whole matter about a human sacrifices resurfaces again...Well anyway! Wait for me and don't do anything I will disagree with once I get back, namely Michael._

_Oh, the women here are lovely; and so are the drinks. Just a fair warning._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Tommy._

=:=:=:=

_My dear extortionist,_

_I'm glad the uprising was dealt with swiftly; I'd been thinking about it so often I was barely functional! Please don't make me worry like that..._

_My report is finally finished and now I only have to look over the whole project once or twice -OK you know I won't be satisfied with just that- and I am set to go! I really have doubts about many things but I'm revising them. What do you think it's about anyway? You never even ventured a guess at it...aren't you curious? Ha-ha, hope I'm piquing your interest._

_I'm also not pleased with you writing less than once every two days but your letters make up for it when I do receive them after all. _

_But I am concerned again. What do you mean you're going back to the plan of "a victim is required"? Tommy you're scaring me. Don't do anything hasty. And think a lot of times before you act! I know what you're saying is minimizing the losses but a human being is always a human being no matter what they'd done in their course of life. Murderer or not, it doesn't worth the weight on your conscience. Please, please, please reconsider everything. A Horcrux isn't worth so much Tommy..._

_And I am holding my trump card for the end: you do know that Malfoy and Jules have been going out a lot on their own lately right? Thus there's much less supervision thus much more freedom. Think before you act Tommy I beg you. Do not do anything you might regret; more importantly, don't do anything that I might regret._

_Love,_

_Cam._

* * *

'Tom~! You're back!'

.

.

He'd just arrived in London.

He'd taken the last train home from Dover port and it took a relatively long time. He'd chosen muggle means of transport because both his and Camellia's apartments were in the middle of a muggle street thus much easier to reach. Besides, it took a little time from the certain train station to Cam's -where he assumed he'd be spending the night- and it had an easier access.

Not a moment later than he set his foot on London grounds again, he'd found himself tackled by none other than his over-excited girlfriend. She managed to topple him and before long they were both on the floor, laughing and hugging.

'Tom you're here again-oooh I'm so happy you're alright!'

The critical and contemptuous glares the pair of them received by the passerbys or the people who were coming off the train -_to have the nerve and the audacity to display such foul behaviour in public and so shamelessly_- were utterly ignored by the young people. She was just so thrilled to see him again that she kissed him and hugged him and buried her face in his neck without caring the rest could see that, too.

'Don't kiss me in the middle of the station Camellia.'

'Ha-ha; I missed you, too, I missed you, too.' she said condescendingly as she patted his head affectionately.

He **had** missed her, not that he'd ever admit of course. All the while he was over there at Romania, which was most of his summer, he'd been all too preoccupied with research -research that had finally come into fruition- to mind her absence. But ever since he finished it and decided to return, he'd been getting the surprising feeling of homesickness.

He then realized he'd actually regretted not having her with him, or not returning to her, to home, sooner.

Funny thing routine can be.

Suddenly, he grabbed her 'Here we go then!' and carried her away like a lamb over his shoulder. He only just wanted to feel her skin under his fingers.

'Kyah! Tom! Put me down-!'

'...I don't feel like it. It's been a long time since I saw you and I can't help myself...you lost weight haven't you?'

He shrugged to make his point.

'Stop cutting into every conversation like that and...Nah, not really; I lost some but then I gained it back. I just can't seem to be able to keep a certain weight in check. Anyway! Now you're here I have loads to tell you!'

But then Tom realized... 'Where's Malfoy by the way...? Or any of the others? Are you the only one here?'

'Oh yes; they um, _felt_ it'd be better to leave us alone for the day.'

'Don't you mean you threatened them into it?'

'...oh yes; you don't mind, do you?'

'E-he-he; no. I think it's very resourceful.'

'Aw, I just knew you'd see it my way. So can you lemme off now? I think someone will call the Bobbys on you.'

'I most certainly can't!'

'Fine then...so long I'm here then at least answer me this: did you go through with the whole human sacrifice-?'

He put her down immediately, he almost threw her.

'What-!'

'Just-just don't go there now, OK? I'll...answer you when I'm ready.'

Widening her eyes in shock, she ran after him. '_Tom, this is a person's life we're talking about, this isn't something to be talked with at your owl leisure!'_

'And what if I did? You'll tell people? You'll run along and tell bloody-Dumbledore whom with I know you've kept ties with!'

She looked away ashamed. 'I have to know in order to decided first but I'd never tell on you like that! Besides, if you did-...something as horrible as that to a poor person-!'

'**I asked you to stop**.'

She did.

She wouldn't oblige him in any other occassion but now she saw it: that subtle change over his face that grew cold and distant in a split second. He was cutting himself off again; he was crawling back into his own little world of denial, away from her and she hated to see that happen. She always hated seeing it happen. Especially when he had gone so far as to confine in her something like that and suddenly she felt like she had somehow disappointed him.

It was too long when she realized she was questioning him about a murder and not his feelings or something or another...

'When will you tell me?'

'In due time. No need to worry about it before your report is done.'

.

.

.

They were standing just outside of one of the muggles' entrances to the Ministry of magic...

Odd place, if one asked Harry. He had no idea what they'd be doing in there at this time of year, especially since Hogwarts had ended and so almost summer did, too. If Camellia was to work there as an unspeakable after all, she deserved the summer off, to rethink and maybe change her strategy. They all knew that and considering her personality they all figured she'd go for the holiday not the "rush into responsibility" plan.

Yet, they must have been wrong, if they were there. And there they were: the entrance gave way and the young couple -wow, it felt weird to think of them as a piece now; both were so independent and different, it just sounded wrong in their heads to view them as an item- exited the ministry. They immediately went to them.

Tom looked his normal self, only polished and a little more arrogant than usual; Camellia on the other hand looked nothing like herself: a mere glance was all it took all four of them to see the worry, insecurity and self-doubt inside her. Her now big from shock or disruption green eyes betrayed her emotions.

'You did just fine; now if you'll relax, too we can-!'

'Tom, how can you say that?' she reacted as if he'd just called her a horrible name. 'Didn't you see how horrible I was? I bet they didn't like the presentation, I bet they hated the slides and I just know it was incomplete-I should have worked more on it, I should have-!'

'I'll never get you Cam, really;' he interrupted her again 'you were so calm and laconic back there so where is this coming from? I know you're anxious but you did great. I mean it, you did amazingly.'

She pouted; she really was on pins and needles about this whole project. It was a presentation given by those who aimed to become unspeakables thus its requisitions were known to everyone so all one had to do was pick a subject and reform it...well, it would have been that easy if this was any other job this one. Instead, all the requisitions it mentioned were: "do your best to surprise us". That really had her stumped as to where she should begin, how to go on, what to add, what not to mention...so she ended up doing this huge research and this equally huge presentation, it did last two hours-two hours of none other talking than herself.

She even had a pointer...

And when it was all over, the only question she was asked was: "How much do you want to be an unspeakable?"

That freaked her out far less than she feared though, because she'd done her research on them, too: she'd asked around and people told her they always asked awkward questions at the end and a lot of either they hire you or not rested on that answer.

Yet, now she felt inadequate; she always went through this stage no matter what she was doing-even when she was taking her final exams, after every subject she would worry herself to sleep by torturing herself with all those kind of questions before finally exhausting and falling asleep out of nothing but the need to recharge. Or else she'd collapse.

Yet, now it was morning; she couldn't possibly do that. And this was also one of the few times Tom was actually there to see her like that (and hopefully help her through it, too); the certain thought made her feel vulnerable...but much closer to him. He was finally seeing all of her and it made her happy he was being supportive and didn't turn on his heel to run.

Which reaction would have been preferable to the young blooming dark lord; he was feeling uncomfortable seeing her wallow in self pity for the reason that meant he had anything to do with feelings.

Also, the fact she was worrying over _absolutely nothing_! He'd seen, watched and supervised her presentation -count on Camellia's almost obsessive compulsion to write everything down- every step of the way and he didn't find one single mistake or lacking. Sure, in its early stages he would think to himself "she should add that" but later on it turned out she actually added it. And of course, he couldn't help even if he wanted to as it was strictly forbidden by the rules of the unspeakable but, most importantly, by the girl herself. When he almost talked about it, she shut him up immediately-thankfully without doing anything else than glaring.

So he'd gotten the message.

But the mere fact she did such a good job and she still doubted herself made him crazy.

'You're just saying that.' she ultimately snapped, her hands tied as she came to a sudden stop.

'No I'm not; if I had thought even for a moment something was missing I would have somehow hinted at it. I never did though, so you must know you did great. Honestly, if they don't pick you I'll go complain to them myself.'

Oh, that Tom, he always knew how to make her smile...

'You think they'd listen?' she asked humorously as they started walking again.

'I can be _very_ persuasive...'

They both laughed.

'Now cheer up; I'll take you out to dinner. You deserve a treat after this ordeal. Where do you want to go?'

She looked at him provocatively as she stood in front of him, unmoving. 'Oh? You're buying me lunch?' siad her and slithered closer.

He smirked; despite all she was saying she was in a good mood, if she did that in public. He put his hands on her waist. 'Aha; anything you like-...'

But then he noticed two pairs of eyes burning holes into him. He looked up and saw an older -but not old- couple stare at him profoundly gobsmacked.  
He felt chills.

'Who are these people that are staring so persistently at me and why?' he asked in the end a little "scared". He'd never seen them before so he could only assume they were, somehow, acquaintances of his girlfriend...

She'd seen him change and when he asked her she immediately turned her head around...she froze.

'Camellia, are you okay?' he asked a tiny bit freaked out when he saw her paling. Who were these people that caused her such a fright?

She let go off him but didn't turn to face said people, she only looked at Tom with the same empty, frozen and pale countenance. She cleared her throat; he noticed the people coming over to them. Oh, she must have waved without him seeing it-wait what? Why did she wave if she was so afraid of them!

'Camellia, who are those people?'

'Yeah, about that. Tom, I want you to remain perfectly calm, not say anything rush and don't react in any kind of way with what you're about to hear. These people currently crossing the street, still looking flabbergasted towards us...are my parents.'

* * *

**A/N**: End~! Did you like it? Didn't expect mommy and daddy would show up so abruptly right? :3 Leave a review or send a message!


	33. First time, the hardest

**A/N**: So I'm a procrastinator and it was the holidays. It is just one week later. You don't mind too much, no? :3

* * *

'Yeah, about that. Tom, I want you to remain perfectly calm, not say anything rush and don't react in any kind of way with what you're about to hear. These people currently crossing the street, still looking flabbergasted towards us...are my parents.'

And now all rational thought goes out the window; he released her and for a moment he was simply staring blankly at nothing.

His first reaction would normally be to grab her and run.

Another would be to turn heel and leave discreetly in a smoke of thin air; also, he considered going back to the ministry claiming he forgot something. He should let her deal with them by herself; they are _her_ parents anyway...only he couldn't. And he knew it. If he did she'd probably never speak to him ever again. Considering they were friends for so many years and he finally managed to get to boyfriend bases just three months ago, he wasn't about to let her go now.

So he swallowed, braced himself, stood up straight and got his charming smile on; he would make them like him either they liked it or not!

They finally reached them...he felt scrutinized.

'Mum, dad, this is Tom Marvolo Riddle.' she finally said, all good will and no impoliteness as she gestured to her right...

But neither parent reacted; they merely stood there looking at him in the same manner as ten seconds ago.

'Tom' she emphasized, like scolding them 'I talked to you about him.'

Suddenly the mother stirred.

'Oh, that Tom; you must be our Camellia's boyfriend!' she gave a small laugh as she waved her hand. 'My, my; do forgive me-I have such a weak memory for names.'

He flashed his smile. 'Ah, no matter-...'

Instead of shaking his outstretched hand though, she tackled him with a very "motherly like" hug...rendering him completely immobile.

What was it with the Adams women? Did they all have to be so goddamn physically expressive! Then again, Camellia must have seen it somewhere in her immediate circle of influence to adopt it.

Camellia secretly enjoyed what she was seeing-it was a good enough punishment for whatever it was she was sure he'd done and he still wouldn't tell her, but she pretended to be distraught and rushed to his aid.

'Mum, I've already told you not to attack upon seeing him-you're making him feel uncomfortable.' she protested -after all, it was her mother and she was embarrassing her- as she actually separated them calmly.

His eyes screamed out at her_ Thank you_... even if to a stranger they'd look perfectly normal and unfazed. Not only had her mother violated his private space but she even put her hands on him. It took him at least five years of acquaintance to reach that level of comfort with Camellia; it came as a shock to him after meeting someone for the first time.

...But honestly, how could he not have realized these people were her parents? To begin with, her mother was a spitting image only in black hair and eyes. Their figure, their expressions, even the spontaneous gestures were all there-the resemblance was at least striking.

'Come now dear, he is fine, look at him.'

_I am looking at him..._

'Exactly honey, let your mother be grateful to the man who's been taking care of our precious little daughter...'

'I'm an adult dad...' she said disappointed, shaking her head.

Her parents' innate drive to treat her as a toddler was past infuriating after her sixteenth birthday and past depressing after she made adulthood. Now it was merely annoying.

'But I'll always remember when you were but a small little baby and I was changing-.'

'Just shake his hand before you say anything even more embarrassing!'

OK; she was obviously wrong. They had found new and more fun ways to torture her about it. She knew she got her sadistic streak from someone close in the family...

But her dad more than obliged; he shook Tom's hand vigorously, looking directly into his deceitful livid eyes...her father, Tom realized, had a very firm grip and he was also a little bit on the discontent side about their relationship, if the grip was any indication.

This while, he was uncannily interested in them and how they interacted when pitted together; the father was -obviously- overprotective, the mother was either truly happy-go-lucky or too calculative and Camellia thrown in the middle of all this was surprisingly in character...

'Hello sir; ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'The pleasure is all ours m'boy. So tell me, have you been keeping my daughter safe?'

'More than that; almost unapproachable.'

'Oh? There's a man after my own heart-!'

'But not mine; and I'm more than capable of taking care of myself without anyone's help and Tom knows that.'

'Indeed you are, but I'm certain your father only meant that it's better if you have a man taking care of you.'

Before the girl managed to snap at him, her father took the floor pleasantly surprised.

'O ho; I'm glad you and I can communicate so well!' he said as he patted him -a little too powerfully for a mere friendly pat; that was when Tom realized were Camellia had gotten her strength from- and then put his arm around Tom's shoulders.

'So, speaking of positive feelings and all in the spirit of preserving them, tell me my boy: have you and Camellia kept this relationship entirely as it should be, purely platonic, or will you have to make an honest woman out of her soon enough?'

Tom's smile froze into place; her mother looked surprised while Camellia coloured so much she was almost glowing.

'Father, I believe that is none of your business!' she literally screeched.

'Sweetie, I wasn't speaking to you.'

'Yes but dad this is also about-!'

Still, Tom didn't know what was sadder: the fact he was being questioned about his love life from the Cam's father or the fact he was forced to say no...When "no" was actually the truth? Well, maybe they weren't exclusively platonic but neither did they have sex yet -and the fact he had no one to blame but himself made it all the worse-.

'We haven't had sex yet sir, if that's what you're asking.'

* * *

Both Harry and Ron stared; to have the guts to say something like that to the father of the gril you were dating...even in their time that was unbelievable to do. Tom had some guts.

* * *

'TOM-!'

'Hush sweetie...'

The two men stared at each other for a long time; neither her father, nor Tom did they look away or break eye-contact even for a moment. They both knew it would mean weakness or loss. It all came down to what her father would say when he spoke again...

Meanwhile, both women were looking at them with a raised eyebrow; they just couldn't understand why such theatrics were needed in such an occasion. What was up with the staring contest?

Suddenly, the father smiled broadly and laughed.

'Ha ha; here is a man I can communicate with-straightforward and honest. I like you boy!' he boomed as he grabbed him by the nape of his neck -even if he were admittedly shorter- and patted him.

Tom gave a bashful kind of modest smile -the smile of "acceptance", as Tom had labelled it-.

'My name is Nathan; this is my wife Rachel. Since we happened to run into you why don't we all go out to lunch together-get to know you a little? I'm buying!'

He still hadn't let go of him but Tom didn't protest; he really wanted to make a good impression on these people because then he'd have no obstacle to being with her whenever he wanted. And her father nearly gave him a heart attack when he glared like that, showing how difficult he was to fool and how high were his standards -another thing his daughter got from him; was it Tom's idea or had this girl taken after her father much more than her mother?

Besides the skin colour and the overall appearance, she had even taken his deep brown hair and his green eyes.

'Dad, we can't come; we're here on business and besides Tom had offered to take me out instead-.'

'Lizzy, I believe we can eat with your parents just as easily as we'd eat if we were alone; but I'd love to dine with you mister and Misses Adams. It would be truly a pleasure to get to know the people who raised such a lovely daughter...'

Camellia blushed beside herself; somehow she felt better with herself.

Somehow her parents felt better about themselves. What a wonderful young man their daughter had found...

'Oh well, if you put it that way...' her mother said humbly all of the sudden, trying not to blush.

'Yeah? Well, I'd like to know who raised you to be such a chameleon...'

'Come now dear, not in front of your parents. But I must insist that _I_ shall buy you dinner; I have already made the offer to your daughter so it will be my treat.'

'Ah, don't want to hear of it; this is a special occasion for the Adams family so we'll be treating you! We need to celebrate!'

'Um...celebrate dad?'

'Why yes my dear; this strapping young man will be joining the family shortly, right?'

Her father's voice was casual, pleasant even, but there was another layer hidden underneath the pleasantries: there was a tension, a pressure and a warning. A warning in the lines of: "you'll marry as soon as I suspect you've gone all the way. End of story."

Chocking on her own breath, her eyes grew wide; she knew, oh how did she know her parents, especially her father would rush to the certain conversation. Which was why she never wanted Tom meeting her parents so soon, but she never thought he'd mention it before they got to sit down to eat!

Her eyes darted to Tom-she knew he was afraid of commitment and by the sudden mention she was sure his silence was caused either by a stroke or a heart-attack.

'Cam' are you alright?' he asked her instead.

He made no sign of panic or surprise: he had his trademark smirk playing on his lips as if nothing had happened.

'No but why the hell are you!'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Why wouldn't he be?' her father echoed, just as wondered.

'Well...' she felt uncomfortable now that everyone was looking at her like that. 'You just implied he should marry me.'

'So?' both men prompted simultaneously.

Did her father mention he started liking this boy?  
Did Tom mention he was a master at manipulation?

Her eyes snapped even wider. 'You don't mind!'

'...I do plan on marrying you in due time.' He shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. 'I can't understand this constant fear of commitment you're displaying darling; I've told you a thousand times I'm not the type to cheat.'

She gaped. Her parents stared at her with their "parents look".

'I-I-I most certainly not have any kind of fear especially one as that; and of all people you two should know that-you raised me!' she accused them before turning back to him. 'And what's with you? We've only been dating for a couple of months!'

'And we've known each other for _seven years_...'

'Humph! There you have it! Now, let's go to eat!'

* * *

'I bet you five galleons we will never see this dinner.' Ron said with a devilish smile.

'Fine; I bet ten we will.'

Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes.

* * *

Her mother finalized the decision for everyone, leaving the two young ones behind. Immediately, Camellia took the opportunity to speak to him. She grabbed him, as discreetly as she could, and brought him down to her level.

'Are you mad!' she whispered flabbergasted. 'What do you mean you plan on marrying me?'

'Well...I did say in due time. That can mean _any time_, not necessarily now. Don't you agree?'

She glared.

'You are such a manipulative bastard.'

'Thank you dear.'

'That's nothing to be proud of, secretive prat.'

. . .As these words were spoken, the memory dissolved.

Harry pouted. 'Here's your money then...'

'Glad doing business with you m friend.'

'You know I disapprove of gambling Ronald don't you?'

'This isn't gambling; this is Harry!'

She shook her head defeated. 'Never mind...'

Ginny wordlessly picked up the next memory Hermione had readied and poured it in; she would have no problem otherwise but Harry had started making these sort of bets somewhat frequently ever since two months ago and she was starting to worry. She knew it was nothing serious, the largest sum he ever betted was 30 galleons, but what if he made a habit out of it? Well, she'd deal with this later.

.

.

Harry, never letting Ginny out of his field of vision, he concentrated on the scene developing in front of him: they were in the apartment they had seen once before, Camellia's apartment, and both she and Tom were there, sitting somewhere in the room.

Yet, there was something different about this scene; something weird. Was it his imagination or was there something wrong with the girl? Her ever-growing, now almost waist-length hair, were covering almost all of her upper half making it impossible to see her and discern either she was looking sad or not but even her posture was unlike the one she usually had: hunched, her shoulders rested on her knees.

Tom was unlike his usual self as well: he was fidgeting, apparent in his feet more than anything else, his eyes scanning Camellia worriedly.

When Camellia hid her face behind her hair he knew one thing: her little world was coming to an end.

True enough, they had no big problems in their relationship, thus it could only be two things: he had either underestimated one of their arguments while she apparently made a big deal out of it or, even worse, this meant **he** wasn't the most important part of her world.

He decided it was better to assume the latter though, even if ego-bruising or else he would have to insincerely apologise again. He'd find out what this was and, his resolve unchanging now, he took a step closer to her: from her desk to the couch.

He took a deep breath.

'I killed him.'

She didn't react.

'Camellia...did you hear me?' he sat next to her; she didn't even look up. 'Camellia...Camellia!' he saw her twitching. Good, her attention was finally on him.

'I killed him.' he repeated, firmer.

She looked up, turning to him wide-eyed.

'What? Whom did you kill?'

Her voice came out a little shrill. Oops. Still, he pretended to be ashamed or uncomfortable and put his head down.

'...that person I talked to you about when I as in Romania. You know, the same one you've been asking about for the last month?'

'Oh...'

He raised an eyebrow. "_Oh"? What's up with her?_

'But why him?'

_She's too calm, I don't like this._ 'He was a werewolf and a murderer who killed both in the full moon and in any other day. I rid them of an evil while serving my own goals; I think it's a fair deal.'

She'd stopped looking at him by the time she'd asked why; and now she was staring at absolutely nothing while he was peering at her for some sort of reaction. But none significant came. He was really worried by now.

'...you do have a point.'

He just stood there dumbstruck. That was all she had to say? What the actual hell? Why wasn't she screaming by now?

'Um, Camellia darling, do you remember how you kept asking me if I did it or not and I wouldn't tell you?'

'Yes...'

'D'you know why I wouldn't divulge the information?'

'No...'

'Because if I told you, I thought at best I would be facing another Lashio spell or whatnot...but now you're calm. Why _aren't _you acting like I thought you would?'

Seeing how she still faced the other way, he wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her so close he made sure her back was touching his chest.

'No reason...'

He buried his face in her hair, smelling them. What a refreshing scent they always had.

'Did something happen with your parents?'

She flinched. Bingo! That was it.

'What is it? What did they do to you?' suddenly he realized; it wasn't a week ago he'd met them; could it have anything to do with him? But they liked him! 'Is it my fault?'

'Eh? Oh no, nothing of the sort! Let's just strictly call it family business; it doesn't have to do with you wanting to join said family or not.'

'Ah, I feel relieved...'

She said nothing else; his eyes darted to her fretful. Whatever it was that was going on, it was too much for her. If she took the fact she killed someone so lightly, then indeed her world was dying-inside of her. Was he also a part of that death?

He started brooding in his own mind, too: what if what he'd just told her caused her to finally make the decision he didn't worth the time? What if she suddenly felt disgusted? He had a plan, she couldn't leave him!

The panic ran through him, but he didn't allow himself to lose control of the situation: he was still holding her and she made no sign of releasing herself, which was good. He hugged her tighter, checking for a reaction but nothing still. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

He lightly pecked her neck, thinking had she any ill-will against him she'd shove him...but the moment he did, he watched as she turned to him, cuddling up in his arms and reposed her head on his chest.

'I love you Tom.'

'. . .'

.

.

She didn't mind his silence; she was used to these answers. She was convinced he loved her, too anyway thus when he would not respond to her she only considered it him being proud or entirely unprepared for such affection. So sweet, did she think his inability to express his feelings was. She smiled -he felt it and looked at her wondered- and nuzzled at his neck.

'You'll tell me all about it when you think it's right then.' he simply stated, as if her gestures were words.

'Aye...'

But she didn't stop to that. She kissed him again; and again; and slowly she snaked her hands around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, dragging him down with her as she lay back on the couch. She felt him smirk as his arms slowly climbed her curves, and more than willingly mounted her.

And everything went black.

* * *

'Wow, what happened?' Ron exclaimed suddenly, looking everywhere around him worried.

Nothing of the sort had ever happened before. Was the pensive...malfunctioning? Was that even possible?

'I have no' Harry drawled for emphasis 'idea.'

Hermione smirked; she nudged Ginny and they both giggled.

'What? Come on, speak up!'

'Well, we know why this seems like a limbo but it's nothing of the sort. You'll see in about a moment or so why...'

* * *

The moment passed and just as abruptly as everything was drained of its shape, it came back. Everything was there just as they'd left them...yet they felt something changing, there was something missing. Or, more accurately, someone.

Where was the young couple?

* * *

'Guys, don't look up there; down there has a better view.'

The two men did as Ginny instructed and-...

'No way! No bloody-way! Is that-?'

'Yes it is! Someone got lucky tonight!'

'Men...' Ginny whispered annoyed even if she tried to hide a smile.

* * *

Tom and Camellia were laying on the floor one face-up the other face-down, carelessly covered with a blanket. Both were naked, they could deduce that much from Tom's bare chest and Camellia's bare back. Her breathing was even, indicating she was fast asleep...Tom though was wide awake.

They could see him laying there next to her, frozen with his eyes wide open. He was rigid and looked more than frightened. The sweat had dried on his face and new beads of water had started forming.

...They could not understand for the life of them why in earth he was looking so scared.

But how could anyone understand his problem? No one ever would. He was feeling...utterly defenceless. Never had he in his whole life felt so vulnerable and well, naked both literally and metaphorically.

He felt exposed.

This was the first time he had ever had sex and what's more, it was with her of all people...he let his lust, that transient brief feeling, cloud his better judgement and mistakenly gave into her and his own feelings of desire. He'd thought but for a moment that it would be alright, they were together after all, they were dating for a while now; it was just the natural order of things. So he simply let things take their course...

But that was just a fleeting thought; one he shouldn't have listened to. There was a very particular reason he hadn't had sex with her until that very moment two hours ago and that was fear. He feared she would see right through him.

All his lies, all his pretences, all his deeds, she would recognize the truth behind all the deceit...and she would leave him. But, even worse, she would expose him to the people around her and Dumbledore.

Ah, of course Dumbledore; he knew she was still in contact with him, he found out when he saw a letter from the older man lying on her desk. He'd skimmed it over and saw their old professor was asking of her news. He was certain it was only a ruse to know of his, Tom's news. And he hated the thought he was still under Dumbledore's watch.

So if the woman suddenly realized all the things he never told her or carefully lied to her about, he was sure she'd run for shelter to the older man again like she did when she thought Tom had something to do with the attacks on fifth year...especially when she'll find out that Michael, her very good friend, had been in such a perilous situation -more than twice was he sent to saint Mango's with some sort of life-threatening wound- because of Tom.

Or even more so when she finds out he's been isolating her of all male and most female friends she ever had, with the brilliant exception of Jules -after all, she had to vent on someone about her problems and trapping her ins such a manner where she would realize she was trapped wasn't his intention-.

He hated his own weakness; he hated how he allowed himself to be exposed so crudely!

What if...what if...what if...

He couldn't bear all these thoughts anymore!

He stood up, dressing himself as he went not even realizing when he was completely clad in all of his garments and out the door.

He couldn't take this, he shouldn't have done this! All the new sensations he'd felt when they finally consummated their relationship, all the weird and stirring moments he experienced...! He just didn't know how to handle all of those new circumstances, too!

Maybe staying away from her for a little while, just until he put his thoughts in order again would help. Maybe he should go to Malfoy, he would know what to do; he could bet he had faced the exact same problem himself. After all, Camellia was right and they both knew it: he had commitment issues and if one person also had them and worked them out then that person definitely was Abraxas.

He only couldn't understand how he could feel so close to her yet at the same time so far away and so scared...

* * *

Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow wait; you mean he had sex with her for the first time and he just run away?'

'Oh my God; now she will hate him forever!'

'But this is not the last memory and it has many more; how did he actually make up for this? I know Ginny would have-err,' he saw Ron's stare suddenly redirected at his with all ferocity so he stopped 'I meant if I ever did that I'd rather die than face her again.'

Still raising an eyebrow, he let it slide for now.

'You'll see what happens.' Was all Hermione said and gestured to them.

* * *

The scene changed again; now it showed three people: Jules, Camellia and Malfoy. They were all sitting in a grand living-room, the young couple sitting directly opposite of one another while Camellia sat next to her best friend on the sofa. They were all around a rather large coffee table with a steaming hot pot of coffee or tea in front of each.

The living room was a large and luxurious one, with white furniture and pale-blue walls loaded with all sorts of family pictures and portraits. They recognised none of them though, so they were compelled to think this was Jules' apartment instead of Malfoy's.

Of course that would also be explained by the fact Camellia casually stood up, went to the fridge and took out a small bottle of milk. They doubted she'd have the same freedom to act in the pureblood's house.

'I just don't get him.' she said in between pauses of drinking out of the milk carton. 'Why is he always being such a pain in the ass?'

Malfoy screwed up his face; he certainly didn't like hearing people trash-talking his lord but...was she really wrong? He had nothing to refute her with, nothing at all. He himself had gone through the same thing when he first had sex with a woman he very much liked though, so he could at least excuse him somewhat. Hopefully she would forgive him, too.

'Adams, it's been two weeks! I get it, you're new to the Department of Mysteries, you have loads to do but you could spare him a single moment to talk to you.'

She pierced him.

'No, I don't.' she stated absolutely; so absolutely did she speak, one thought she was in a court room, defending someone's innocence. 'Not after the way he treated me.'

'He was scared, that is all! Happens to all of us! It certainly happened to me, too so I know he's not doing it out of malevolence. He's only confused and scared.'

Jules was watching them silently, falling more and more in league with her girlfriend. Tom was a fool and an immature buffoon. He should have come here himself on his knees to ask for her forgiveness, not send her boyfriend yet again.

No matter how much she thought Cam and Tom were made for one another, he deserved to be alone right about now.

'Still that is no way to treat anyone.' she finalized her defence and never came back to the couch, just leaned on the counter of the kitchen. 'Especially not the person you're supposed to love and care for scared or not. UGH! What's driving me even more crazy is that I knew that he'd be like this if we had sex earlier on but-...I thought he'd have grown over it by now!'

He stood up, too going to her with erratic moves; his mission was to make her come back to Tom and he was currently failing. 'But you haven't even let him talk to you!'

'Would you? After I tried to find him and he'd avoided me for a whole week, would you?'

He looked away, directly to Jules. 'Help me out here, will you **honey**?' he asked somewhat annoyed.

It was no coincidence he had "ambushed" Camellia when she visited Jules. He did it so she would be of help in persuading her to take Tom back, not just become wallpaper.

'...I think Camellia is right. Now that I heard both sides he can just go to hell. She doesn't deserve this kind of treatment.'

'Ah, bullocks!'

Now everything was turning against his favour. Great, nice help she was; more like they ambushed him and not the other way around.

'But the point is everyone makes mistakes. That's what I'm trying to say to you, to **both** of you!' he thundered Jules with a look she chose to ignore. 'Everyone has made mistakes they wish they hadn't, especially with the one they care for the most. He wasn't avoiding you for any other reason he wanted to be sure before he sees you again. And now he is! So please just let him talk to you.'

'You didn't do anything you regret while you were with me though...'

Abraxas waved her off with one hand as he kept on speaking.

'He feels horrible for what he did; including the fact you were having problems with your parents he knows you feel like he abandoned you, but it isn't so, really!'

Malfoy was facing Camellia now, both rose to their heights against each other.

'You didn't do anything you regret while you were with me, right?'

Both Camellia and Malfoy looked at her as if she was interrupting them in an obnoxious way. 'What are those looks for-?'

'Then what do you call it if not as such?'

'For the umpteenth time: A mistake! Can't you forgive a mistake?'

'Hey! Abraxas, answer me! You didn't do anything, right? Right?'

'Shut up Jules' both said; she gaped 'this is serious.'

'Exactly! Let him talk to you!'

'There are letters he can send, too!'

'Oh so you don't mind a letter but you mind his presence?'

_-'Hey answer me!' she said now firmly, while the creeping thought that Camellia knew about this entered her mind.-_

'If I had him before me, I would first kick him and then leave him I would never listen to what he has to say!'

'You are a violent mudblood!'

'Tell me something I don't know!'

_-'Someone answer me!'-_

'How can you say that if you had him in front of you you'd hit him but listen if he weren't there? Don't you have any self-restraint?'

She chuckled derisively.

'You're one to talk! What about your self-restraint mister pureblood? Now just shut up and convey these to him-!'

'I'm not your errand boy you damned mudblood! And I already said I didn't mean to snog you, so stop bringing the god damn thing u-...!'

.

.

Everyone froze.  
Camellia just stood there looking at him...  
Jules gaped. She was too shocked for words.  
Malfoy felt like the most incredibly stupid person on the planet.

'You WHAT? You unfaithful BASTARD! You SNOGGED her! My best friend? And **you**' she turned to Camellia flabbergasted, spitting the word 'didn't tell me anything? I'm absolutely disgusted by the both of you!'

She started pacing up and down erratically and too fast for them to predict her next move; every time they tried to stop her she changed directions; every time they tried to make eye-contact with her she would look the other way. In the intermission they would glare at each other and mouth insults and curses to one another.

'Look, it happened so long ago-we'd barely started dating-!'

'That doesn't make it right you idiot! Um...If I said it was just a bad horribly bad moment from him, which is why I chose to not tell you, will you relax?'

'NO! and how do you know he didn't do it again with someone else?'

'Because I made sure of it.'

As Malfoy tried to talk, Camellia silenced him with a spell, wordlessly performing it behind her back. She wouldn't let him screw this up with his ego.

'Oh really? And what about all the times he'd been staring at you? Or all the times I thought he was flirting with you when you were fighting? All of those were true-!'

'Of course not! Malfoy hates muggleborns, he'd never like me for that! He was only being a prat-wow, Jules, what the bloody-hell are you doing?'

Jules had grabbed a handful of floo powder and she was currently staring the fireplace.

'Where are you going? Wait, don't-'

'Oh I won't be the one coming or going; Tom will!' she said with a sinister smile, her tone making it absolutely clear she wanted to hurt her boyfriend.

Said boyfriend couldn't talk to express his shock enough but the horrified look on his face was more than rewarding for her. He would pay. And she knew if there was one person Abraxas feared that was Tom.

'How do you know where Tom is?' Camellia genuinely wondered out loud.

'Oh, he is at Abraxas' house; he said in case you accepted to see him we would call for him.'

'You knew he's there and said nothing?'

As Camellia tried to reverse the situation and make it look like she was the victim, Jules didn't buy it; simply glaring at whom till a moment ago thought to be her best friend, she snorted and threw the floo powder in the fire place.

'Tom, come here right now!'

A head appeared not a moment later, emerging from the green flames.

'You called for me?'

Malfoy almost fainted.

'What is happening?' he asked with suspicion in his voice. 'Why are you so angry Julia?'

'Because Malfoy just admitted he'd snogged Camellia not even a year ago!'

Tom froze, too; he looked at her disbelievingly at first but when he saw the severity of all people's present expression he reconsidered. And why else would she be furious? They all knew how difficult it was to anger the certain woman so it must have been true.

Of course, she should have never added the "not even a year ago" part; he'd have been mad enough to attack him even if it had happened when they were thirteen! How did Malfoy dare do such a thing when he knew he had his eye on her? To add insult to injury, it was Malfoy who'd told him not to rush anything with her. So he knew from personal experience did he?

The slithering, cowardly son of a bitch! He'd die!

. . .

He saw it all in his mind's eye: he tackled Malfoy and brought him down; Jules screamed encouraging words while Camellia rushed to break them apart. He would manage to land a couple of powerful blows, probably break his nose, too before she separated them and Malfoy would still look like the puppy he looked now.

It didn't worth it. Instead, he only turned to him, looking so murderous Malfoy feared he would actually die.

'You did **what**?'

The fact Tom had the same reaction with Jules was not promising. Camellia took a deep breath, never releasing her spell. If Malfoy spoke and tried to shift the blame on her, -_**she** seduced me, it wasn't my fault alone_- it could turn ugly. And she knew she could sort this out on her own.

'Yes, yes, OK he snogged me; I wasn't happy about it but neither was he! He did it out of instinct-I could tell and he got what he deserved anyway.'

'When did it happen? And why don't you speak for yourself Malfoy?'

'If he speaks he'll only make it worse so I speak for both.'

All three glared at her but none said anything, either they could or not.

'When you'd decided to punish Malfoy at the beginning of our seventh year, when we fought _if you recall_,' Tom looked away but still being angry he didn't let it go and looked back at her 'because I stood up for him and sort of took care of him, he became a little too sensitive; so in a very rare and absolutely unique moment of weakness ever since he started dating you Jules-and that's guaranteed, he snogged me. And that's that.'

Looking at her a tiny bit surprised, Malfoy nodded vigorously. She then realized Abraxas would play along so, as discreetly as she could, she released the spell.

Tom and Jules kept up the staring but this once it had truly toned down.

'I swear.' she said, trying to seal the deal.

'I swear, too! That was all and that was it. After that I never ever snogged anyone else other than you Jules.'

'Is that supposed to make me feel better? You never snogged anyone else other than my best friend who apparently in an effort to cover it up not to hurt me-!'

'Honey, if there was even inkling he would do the same ever again I'd tell you without a second thought but there wasn't; don't be like that, really. I mightly dislike him but he deserves his dues.'

Stubbornly, Jules tied her hands but said nothing. He only gave a look to Abraxas which he knew meant only one thing: they had some talking to do.

'. . . I will deal with you later.' Tom bit out to Abraxas and decided to put this behind him for the moment.

He did have bigger things to focus on.

'Don't threaten him so openly, Tom. And leave. You were summoned here to find out about this mess but now it is solved so your presence is no longer needed.'

'And here I thought you sought out my presence not two weeks ago.'

_Decided to play coy, did he_? 'And here _**I**_ thought you avoided me like the plague not two weeks ago.'

'So what is this, revenge?'

'No, reasonable reaction; get away from me. I don't want to know you anymore.'

She flipped her hair and strutting to the rest of her walk to the door, she tried to make her exit-

'Petrificus Totalus!'

but failed. That fool! He would pay for this! Once she regained movement, he would bloody-die!

'Now you can listen to me without me running the risk of getting my nose broken. See?'

She would growl if she could.

'Um, Tom, don't you think this is a bit extreme-?'

'Hush Jules; I'll be taking her with me now. Abraxas, please leave us your apartment for an hour. If none of us has appeared by then please come and check everything out; maybe one of us will butchered-probably me.'

Even though Jules was positive had Camellia been able to move, she would claw his eyes out, she didn't bother helping her. She was still sore for holding out on her like that, exactly because it was for Abraxas she held out on her. Serves her right! He might as well keep her prisoner for the rest of the month...

Seeing no one reacting, Tom nodded satisfied.

'Wish me luck then!'

Malfoy's eyes followed Camellia; he couldn't help but think not only was he in for it, she would pay for his little slip up, too. But so much anger and disappointment did her eyes express he felt sorry she had to sit through Tom's explanation.

'And now we're finally alone...'

He gulped; maybe he should worry for himself a little bit more...

* * *

**A/N**: And this is it! I have nothing prepared from here on out but I have a streak of inspiration so it should be just fine...wish me luck and please review~!


	34. Just three words

**A/N**: I' so so sorry I didn't meet the deadline again but I had exams and then-...I was anxiously waiting for the results which still haven't come up completely. Two out of six subjects, that sucks -given the new semester began today-. So, I'm really sorry for the delay and I hope I compensate enogh with this...though this is a sad chapter at the end mostly.

A fair warning.

Also, a game: try to find to how many and which phrases the title applies to!

* * *

.

Tom carried Camellia through the fire place and balanced her on the carpet of Malfoy's living room.

This house was much more familiar to the watchers: black leathered sofas, green walls heavy with the Malfoy family tree, family pictures and other similar Malfoy-like things. Vases, frames, elaborately curved ash-trays etc, etc and Camellia couldn't look away from Tom.

He did it on purpose. She would bite him on the nose when he released her!

'So, now we can talk in peace. Well, I can, you'll do the listening this once.'

Unmoving and unchanging, yet he could still discern the fire suddenly burning behind her eyes. Suddenly, an idea came to mind: he could both use this newly inquired information about her and Malfoy to his advantage and try to come off as humble. If he could do that, then she'd be back with him in no time...! At least in theory.

'The truth of the matter is-... I have no excuse. That much I know myself. I acted rashly and caused you much unneeded stress. I wish I could go back in time and pretend this never happened but if I did so it would mean I have inquired the time travelling device I always wanted, but sadly I haven't. Thus I can only count on your forgiveness.'

He stopped talking; as if he had wings on his legs, he found himself next to her in no time. Grabbing her hand, he kissed it affectionately.

'I'm only trying to say I am deeply sorry I hurt you. And I promise I shall never do anything as juvenile as that; what can I say, I was truly scared! All those feelings and-and **thoughts** running through my mind-

_What thoughts those were, it's better she never knows._

'-I felt vulnerable and I thought it was bad. But then I realised, it was even worse not being around you, after the selfishness settled down.

He stood up grabbing both of her hands the poor way he could.

'And, moments ago, when I realized Malfoy had kissed you...I only wanted to _harm_ him.'

He knew sharing a piece of his mind with her would help his position because she could always understand it and appreciate it. Even if it worried her, at the same time it made her feel a bit better. It was like a small bribe.

'I know I have many flaws but if you give me the chance, I can fix them, one by one.'

He took two steps back and with great caution...he released the spell.

Heading towards Tom, she studied him with her eyes: in that moment she knew she had already given in-she knew she'd welcome him with open arms...but that didn't mean she had to be nice about it.

She punched him.

'OW! Camellia-what...?'

'I am so very pissed at you...but I know I **will** take you back eventually. So I have to do something to convey my feelings.'

Despite the very strong pain on his nose, he smirked.

'You will, huh?'

'Yeah...now shut up before I punch you again.'

'Right. Where in earth did you learn to hit people like that though-I always meant to ask. Is my nose still bleeding?'

'Yes, but only a little. Here, let me take care of it.'

Tapping her wand on his damaged nose, it was fixed with a wordless spell. He played with his nose a little to make sure it's alright.

'It still hurts a bit.'

'I know; I did it on purpose.'

He was about to protest when he saw her smile deviously and he knew she wasn't finished.

'So I could take care of you...you want me to take care of you, don't you?'

'Indeed...?'

He moved close, putting his hands on her waist; just when he leaned in-

'OUCH! Camellia!'

He rubbed his nose. She bit him!

'What? I said "eventually"; now let's leave this house. We need to talk-we'll go to my apartment. Send word to Malfoy and Jules, will you?'

'Ja, mein Kommandant.'*

'Oh, learnt German while in the Balkans, did you?' she asked annoyed, as she nudged him.

He only shrugged as he poured some more floo powder in the fire place.

At the other side, a fight was stopped when the figure of Tom appeared through **their** fireplace and they both turned to him.

'Oh I see you're still fighting. Good. We're not far behind you.'

Malfoy's faintest laugh was stifled by Jules deafening glare. Tom resisted his own laugh.

'Either way, Abraxas, you can have your house back. We'll be going to hers. We're playing her field...'

Jules, suddenly all intentions of siding with Tom gone, chuckled.

'You'd better, you emotionally inept coward.'

'O...K. I see your negotiations go worse than mine Abraxas my friend so I'm just gonna live you to it.'

Once Tom and Camellia had arrived safely at her own apartment, where she felt secure and well, they sat down to talk.

These three weeks they'd been separated, lots of things happened: she finally got the position she always wanted at the ministry, he got his own job at Borgin and Burkes while she also had some sort of cryptic news to tell him about her parents that he still had the foggiest what it could be about.

Though probably she'd be less thrilled for the job than him certainly, but hey, it was news. Seeing he couldn't actually tell her about other news of his person, such as the progress he was making on those horcruxes, he'd be content to that.

Oh yeah; her best friend was also facing mortal perils because of her. The downfall of Grindewald had done little to bend the anti-muggle movement -something that Tom had found out with most satisfaction- thus Michael was still off to dangerous missions.

But he probably should keep quiet about that, too.

'I've heard you were accepted as an Unspeakable.' He decided to speak first. Congratulations.'

'Oh yeah! Some time ago; I am very happy...!'

'You should be; you dreamt of it since you were thirteen or whatnot!'

She giggled.

'I have my own business-related news though; I recently got hired...at Borgin and Burkes.'

Her mirth faded away almost immediately. Questioningly, she just stared.

'I am to act as a...retriever.'

She never faltered; he started feeling scrutinized.

'As I take it you don't mean the dog, care to enlighten me?'

'The dog...? _That's a horrible thing to say_...! Anyway;' he cleared hi throat. 'I am to find treasures for them.'

'Treasures? As in old and invaluable objects I presume?'

'Preci-...! Camellia, have you been in their store? It sounds like you know exactly what they are.'

'Yes I have...and don't mind my saying please, but I don't like it. And for that matter, grades like yours, you could have gotten into the ministry, too-if Malfoy could do it...! How does one go from professor at Hogwarts to a mere—that! I am _really_ sorry, I know you like these sorts of things but I just-I mean...It's a waste of your abilities, that's all I'm getting at.'

He knew this was coming; all, but his **most** trusted death eaters, even acted this way: Malfoy and Lestrange were the only ones who never questioned his decision making. They were certain: if their lord chose it, it is needed. They'd always question the intention but as sure as that was set they folded.

Surely, most of the people he knew from Hogwarts -and they were many, mind him- felt equally surprised and maybe disappointed in his orientation and he couldn't entirely blame them, too seeing none was privy to his greater plans, but his death eaters' doubt made him angry.

Unexpectedly, Camellia's objection didn't. It didn't have to do with the fact he knew she'd complain, but with the way she did it. She tried being nice about it but still she expressed her opinion.

'I know that; _everyone's been telling me that_. But I just wanted to do something I like before I apply for something better with much more responsibility; is that really a crime? We didn't all have your luck with our dream job.'

The news of him not planning to hold this position for a long time, along with the guilt-spiked remark relaxed her.

'Oh! Oh, well no; it's fine really-I shouldn't have...said that either way. I'm sorry.'

Suddenly she jumped.

'And congratulations of course! Right, congratulations! I'm very happy for you.'

'**Now** you are.'

'...Oh I'm sorry, I know I should be nicer.'

As if making it up to him, she pecked him on the cheek. But she continued.

'I'm just so spiteful because...if it weren't for Dumbledore I might not have gotten the job.'

His ears twitched.

_Dumbledore, she'd said?_

'What do you mean?'

Her cheeks started colouring but still she obliged him and explained:

'...just before I was accepted, they called me unexpectedly to the ministry. There, I found my examiners and, who else was there waiting with them but our old professor Dumbledore! There he was, in all of his _purple_ glory. And when they'd made sure I wasn't lying about being recommended by him they said I was hired...! And then they left—after they told me to go home and punch in the next day.

'Pricks.'

Exchanging looks, he saw **that** expression she had and immediately knew there was something more to this story. So he egged her on.

'...Interesting. And then what?'

'Since they'd been so "nice" to me and since Dumbledore had once more not only came to my rescue but also spent a whole day away from school for me...I invited him over.'

She let that sink in.

'To my apartment.' she finished, stealing glances from him all the while.

...he stood there staring at her, unmoving. What had he just heard?

_Dumbledore has been here? As in, the sole professor I always hated, Dumbledore? The one professor I could never stand at school, Dumbledore? Is she __**insane**__!_

'You know I can perform Legilimency, Tom; not only do I know what you're thinking but I can "read" it, too.'

'You-...! Tch, of course. No wonder you "read" my mind-you're a bookworm, it's fitting.'

'That's hardly the point...and no I'm not insane. Also, considering I was feeling horribly alone and used, you weren't there **and** he always made it somehow easy for me to clear my mind and collect my thoughts, I think I was perfectly sane to invite him over.'

She crossed her hands and looked the other way offended.

'And...?'

'What d'you mean "and"?'

'I mean don't stop now. This is where the real story begins. What d'you do here?'

'...what is that supposed to mean? I gave him tea and biscuits and we talked for some time and then he left!'

'Ah, of course; what did you talk about?'

'Lots of things Tom! How the school is going, how I am doing, what I think on the new advances of witchcraft sort of thing...'

'Are you certain?'

'Are you questioning me!'

'He asked about me, too didn't he?'

'Excuse me?'

'I said, he asked about me, right?'

'Not in the way you're making it out, he didn't! He just saw a part of that bleeding article you were writing and asked why in earth did my hand-writing started resembling yours all of the sudden and then I explained how sometimes you were here!'

'Oh! You told him we're dating.'

'No, I didn't! Because when he'd come it was around the time you were still avoiding me. In fact, it was him who made me realize chasing you was pointless!'

'Wh-you even told him we had a problem in our relationship!'

'NO, by then we no longer **had** a relationship!'

'Blimey, Camellia; why didn't you just tell him the reason for all of this, too?'

When she didn't answer yet neither looked flabbergasted towards him, he gaped. 'Oh dear Merlin-you **did** tell him why we were apart, didn't you?'

'No, in fact; he made an educated guess and it turns out professor Dumbledore is a very learned man even in the field of relationships.'

'Of course he is; I bet ten galleons his boyfriend left him for the same reason!'

'Wh...TOM! How can you say such a thing? Dumbledore is not-...'

'Into men? If he weren't then there'd be a much colourful story for you to tell!'

She slapped him.

_What the_-!

He blinked owlishly at her. Had she just slapped him...after all this time?

'How dare you _think_ that, you perverted snake?'

By now, the snake-related insults were all insults to his Slytherin nature.

'That's what you think about me? I will just walk out of here one day frustrated and fall into the arms of the first person to-'

'No but allow me to still be shaken by the fact Malfoy kissed you! If you didn't tell me of that then how do I know what other sort of things you've kept-?'

He couldn't listen to this any longer; he felt his temples throb, his whole body was on fire! How dared this woman, lover or not, treat him so? He was lord bloody Voldemort, not just her crush anymore and she was-...

She was-...

He had no word for how maddening she was and that was a fact.

He started pacing incensed, trying to calm himself thusly.

.

.

He was going up and down, up and down in an endless loop; he wasn't even looking at her though he was making horrible allegations against her. She really wanted to lash out at him...!

So she shoved him.

'You'd just carved a snake on the man's back and you'd expect me to confine in you with something like this?'

She shoved him again. 'If I had, I'm afraid he wouldn't be the person he is now!'

And again. 'And I resent your accusations!'

'I resent the fact you kept this from me for so long!'

'Why? Because that means you're not the only one who can keep a secret and if Malfoy wasn't such a fool you'd have never known? Because you're not the only one who can go on and on _and on_ for years, in a certain activity like your managing of those crazy pure bloods in secret? Guess what, I can keep a secret, too! You're not the only one oh so special and amazing!'

'This has nothing to do with that;' _Liar, liar, pants on fire_, a voice chanted in his brain because that was exactly what this was about 'I'm just mad you didn't tell me Malfoy snogged you!'

But maybe it was both; how could she keep this secret? Why didn't she feel the need to tell him immediately after such a transgression? How could she have snogged another man—she was the only woman he'd ever done that with!

And most importantly, how could he not sense she kept something from him?

'So now that I know this happened how could I trust you again immediately?'

'You don't trust me? So why don't you just go? Why don't you just _leave_ me again now that you know? That's what seems to work better for you-running away from your real feelings, your problems, your-!'

_Go_—_leave_—_running away_—feelings-...they were all echoing in his mind, making a terrible sound.

She saw right through him: his inability to really connect; his fear of connecting; his fear of her actually understanding him.

The reason he fled.

She could see right through him...and that made him mad. It made him so mad he really wanted to hurt someone—to harm someone...!

**BAM!**

.

.

She never got to finish her sentence.

This entire charade had drained him: from the very moment he started apologising till ten seconds ago, he was only trying to keep up with this "better than his real self" image he'd created. Now it was just...physically and mentally exhausting.

He only wanted her to shut up and take him back, couldn't she do that? He'd humiliated himself enough for one day, no?

Then why was she still talking? And why did her arguments still make sense?

She should have put this behind her and apologised for letting Dumbledore into their personal life and be done with it! She should have simply apologised when he found out about Malfoy, too! She must have known it would prick at him, so why didn't she?

He had matters to attend to the next day; he needed none of this grief and exertion. So when he punched at the wall, it was so powerful, his knuckle made a horrible sound.

He heard her gasp.

'T-Tom...what...?'

'Stop talking, understand?'

She tried to speak, but he glared. She then only nodded, horrified.

'If what you've been saying is true, I wouldn't be here. But I am. Understand?'

She could feel her eyes sting; her lips were swollen from biting too hard.

She nodded again.

He finally removed his hand from the wall, uncaringly; yet every movement pained him.

He greeted his teeth and held his head high. This was nothing compared to the horcruxes, really.

'In case you don't remember, I _scarred_ myself for you;' he snarled, holding out his beaten, broken hand 'no matter what, I will be here so don't give me that nonsense! Never again! Do you hear me?'

'_Yes_...'

'Speak up!' he said gravely; she squeaked. 'I can't hear you!'

'Yes, I do.'

'Louder!'

'**I DO**!'

'...good.' was all he said before he finally collapsed onto her couch.

.

. .

Silence stretched...

. .

.

She was scared. She remembered seeing him like this only once before, and at that time too had she thought she saw red behind his eyes: the time he fought with him about Malfoy and that horrible, terrible scar he still carried on his back.

He'd gotten physical at that time as well, only now he did it on her wall and not on her directly.

It mattered little. The effect was still the same: she was still scared.

Wait, though, that was it? No remorse from his part? No apologies? Hell, not even a-!

'So stop staring at me like that. It's making me feel increasingly awkward.'

Her eyes fell on the floor.

Slowly, yet steadily, she took small steps towards him; he watched her sit next to him wondered.

She swallowed.

'Is your hand alright?'

'It's peachy.'

'No need for sarcasm Tom...!'

Unexpectedly, he coloured from her remark. Her reflexive attitude was certainly serving her here, seeing she still had fire in her enough to talk back.

Yet, neither did he remove his hand nor did he react in a negative way when he saw her gently taking it in hers.

She studied it.

'You really should have been in Gryffindor. Your inner-drive of courage and what's right or wrong is as exceptional as ever, my dear.' he only added as a sincere afterthought.

'If that's your criteria then I guess you being in Slytherin is perfect.'

'You did always dislike my house...'

She tapped her wand on his hand; his hand healed immediately.

'Ah, no leftovers for you to mend later? I take it you don't want to take care of me this o-?'

'If you ever try to scare me like that again, _I swear_...'

She squeezed the hand she previsouly took care of, 'your **_hand_** won't be the only thing that will need to be taken care of.'

It hurt him.

'Is that clear?'

She was threatening him. He didn't know if he should be outraged or proud.

'Yes...'

'Good.'

She almost threw his hand, as he distantly realised she gave him the same treatment he gave her. 'And since your hand is alright, I suggest you leave.'

'Camellia, wait.'

It was the first time she looked up; busying herself with the things on her sofa, making sure his hand was well; she hadn't spared him a single glance. He had felt her...contempt. It was enough to leave a very bitter taste in his mouth. So he tried to make her look at him.

And now she did, he stopped her; and that was what she was trying to avoid: looking right into his eyes.

'I am sorry; please forgive me.'

It sounded hollow, yet so...honest to her. So she had to make sure.

She tried to leave.

'Please...'

'Go crawl under rock and come back when you mean it.'

_Ouch, that was harsh_.

'I do. Seeing I have used up my quota of grand gestures for the day though, I would like to know what you think would make you believe me?'

'Then the next time we argue just don't do it. Shouldn't that be enough? If you're planning on doing it again then what are you exactly sorry about? For scaring me even though that was your goal?'

'...let's just leave it at your threat. If I do it again you can beat me up to your heart's content.'

He watched as her eyes grew wide...and in that moment he knew what she was thinking without using his own skills at Legilimency. She was in awe for the man's innate love for violence, but most of all, self-hurting and promised unfathomable pain.

She scoffed.

'Sounds reasonable; sounds _fair_.'

'Alright then. So, do I still have to go?'

She gave him such a look, he felt like an idiot for asking.

'I mean, come now—I sort of promised your father I would marry you! Married couples shouldn't sleep apart over fights like these. Besides, we need to work these problems through right?'

She was blushing so much he'd thought her very skin tone had changed.

He was a master manipulator after all so he knew what people wanted to hear or what would alleviate them in a time of crisis. Now he knew her "key" was the mention of one of her parents...or the marriage.

Or both.

He had to work on that.

'You just said that.'

'No...' he admired her sudden headstrong yet childish behaviour. 'I meant it.'

_As if._

'I love you...'

And there it was. The first time he'd ever really said it.

No turnabouts at the last minute, no using traits of her character -or her body- as the recipient of those words.

He said he loved her. And now he knew he could never take it back. And now she could freely presume this was the truth.

He only hoped she wouldn't sense this confession was a lie, too...

.

.

.

Another month later, and everything felt like an uppleasant and distant memory: their relationship repaired, their friends had made up -and what's more, Jules never held it against Camellia- and Dumbledore's hand in all of this, was finally visible.

He got them back together again.

After all, her sudden _lack_ of caring was what triggered his active almost stalking. He'd followed her everywhere for some time—he was close to attacking one of her co-workers, too because he'd seen him eating at her favourite restaurant.

He had naturally guessed she would be there, too...buthen the girl that said man was waiting for turned out to be an admittedly sexy yet completely unrelated red-head, he simply bid him farewell, thankful he didn't first curse him and then ask for information.

Later, Camellia found a way for him to atypically apologise: they went out all four of them...! Well, they would have, but the man was single. The woman he was with him then, was his first cousin and though he had a crush on some girl, he still couldn't have her.

Thus, Camellia brought a friend of hers from school, Bridget, and then they had dinner. But Camellia's match-making skills were pale in comparison to her others because those two? They just couldn't agree to _any_thing! They even had different tastes in food.

Tom shook his head amused that night many times; it was too much of an entertainment watching this guy—with his rock look, and his black fashionable boots and his longer-than-Tom's hair, flounder for answers every time Bridget would ask him something political.

He was decidedly neutral, opposed to his supposed date that was vehemently for muggles' rights.

The guy's name was Alfred, Fred for short.

And he was sour to find out in later days the word "Fred" escaped Camellia's mouth more than enough when she talked about work. He would have to pay mind and make sure she used it _only_ when drawling about her co-workers. If not, well then, he'd have to pay him a visit.

Hopefully inconspicuously...

But the most surprising thing of all was that she still hadn't told him about that thing she was being all out of sorts about, which concerned her parents. He was starting to worry she didn't trust him anymore.

Not that he could blame her.

But he decided enough was enough. When she least expected it, he would ask her!

So, one day, he woke up determined. He would get the truth out of her and she wouldn't run away with pretty words...he went from his bedroom to his living room-

.

.

'Hey guys, d'you notice this is Voldemort's apartment?'

'Hey, now that you mention it Harry...!'

'Oh really now...?'

.

.

-and he looked around for her...but she was nowhere to be seen.

_That is odd_, he must have thought judging from his thoughtful expression and he went closer to the sofa. After all, she had that habit f lying on the damn furniture in a way she couldn't be seen from behind—a remnant from her school days when she didn't want to be disturbed.

But when he realised she actually was nowhere in his apartment, he seemed rather worried. Where could she have gone? He had to check out all possible places.

She wasn't in her apartment though.

Nor was she at Jules seeing Jules was there with Malfoy.

She most certainly wouldn't be –and wasn't after all- at Malfoy's or else he'd have a fit.

What other places were there left to look at...? He took a wild guess and ventured out...in the muggle world. No matter how much he hated that thought, he knew he wanted to find her thus no place was improbable enough.

And his courage awarded him with success: there she was, seated on that filthy, awful bench in the middle of an otherwise beautiful, green park.

The setting sun had already dived and all that was left was darkness and shadows dancing around, creating many fearsome looking trees.

Yet she only stayed there, uncaring or unaware of the rest of the world all around her...after all, it was dangerous for a young woman of her age to be all alone in some muggle park at such a time. What was she thinking?

He waved a hand at the ridiculousness of the situation and went to her...

But as he approached, he saw something he hadn't noticed before-something he did not expect: her shoulders were moving jerkily up and down, while her face remained downcast.

She was crying.

'Camellia?'

The sound of drawing a breath was made and she stilled; he sat next to her.

'Camellia, why are you in the middle of a rather dodgy muggle park, all alone in the wake of the night, crying nonetheless?'

'...' she sniffed audibly 'I just...'

She stopped to struggle with the rest of the tears threatening to spill. He knew she disliked anyone seeing her crying, she thought it made her weak. He thought it made her remotely easier to understand, which was why he preferred it from her shouting or, even worse, her silence.

'You know you can tell me anything...'

'I do, I do.' she agreed, somewhat better.

.

.

'What's wrong with her Hermione?' Ron immediately asked his wife who was sure to know. But then he noticed she was looking sad, too.

And so was Ginny!

'Wow, girls, please; just tell us what's wrong.'

'You'll see...' they both said at their own time, and kept looking at the couple.

.

.

'You see, not three hours ago, I received some news-...from my...parents. Well, not _from_ them but **for** them-...'

But her voice broke. She started shaking again.

He was suddenly alarmed; if she received the news three hours ago, did that mean she was crying since? What could possibly have happened to her? What could possibly have happened to her parents, to be more precise? Did they disown her finally?

Heh, if that was the case he didn't mind at all—it meant two people less to worry about!

'Camellia, please calm down...' he said in a perfectly soothing voice; he'd practised a lot on how to produce the certain sound so he was rather proud of it.

He gave her a one-arm hug, bringing her closer. 'Just tell me what's wrong, but don't rush it. It'll come to you. I gather this is about your parents, so take your time...'

She stayed there buried in his chest for a while.

He didn't mind. She was cold from lack of wearing anything resembling a jacket, he felt uncannily satisfied when he realised she snuggled up to him to make her warm. He felt somehow proud he was what made her feel secure.

He didn't know why, nor did he care to look further into it; he merely considered it a small victory against her intuitive nature.

When she was relaxed enough, he felt her stir; she looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

He held his breath.

'My parents...died.'

.

.

.

'What?'

The question left not only young Voldemort's lips, but Harry and Ron's, too. Her parents had _**what**_?

'I mean...how? Why so suddenly, what in earth...?'

She braced herself with a deep breath again; she knew these questions were coming from the moment she decided to tell him. So, she made the final effort of controlling herself and spoke as steady as she could.

'Two months ago, my mother told me she was diagnosed with cancer,' she disregarded his shocked countenance 'and that was why I was so...out of it that day you told me about the werewolf.'

She disregarded his shamed blush and kept talking.

'But the important thing is she was diagnosed by the doctor months before that! He'd given her six months to live, yet she took pride in the fact she managed to push that limit to eight, she'd said! Today she expired and-...she said she was happy to have made it to ten!'

She started crying but her tale wasn't finished, so she didn't stop.

'I asked her why she hadn't told me. I'd told her **two years ago **I'd found out cancer was treatable with magic so long you caught it early but-...but she told me nothing! She said it was better to just die naturally and relying on magic was just unnatural...!

'And then-and then I get this letter where my father explains to me _how_ they'd have figured everything out together and as soon as mum died, he would kill himself, too because-...because I'd found the one for me and now I needed no care from them anymore and I was a grown woman and living without her would be unbearable so-...!

'He killed himself, he just killed himself! He took his gun and-and-...'

She couldn't go on; sobbing, she literally buried her face in her hair and his chest. She'd felt something die inside of her, too. She couldn't come to realise it. Her father was all right, there was nothing wrong with him...other than his brain obviously! But why did he have to die then?

'How could he do that!' she faintly realised she was screaming. 'How could he do something like that to me—to himself? Dying for love? How ridiculous that-that...' her breath was caught in her throat.

Her lungs burned; her eyes felt raw; her mouth felt bloody.

'Shush...shush...relax, try to relax; breathe.'

He rocked her back and forth comfortingly; his one hand mingled in her hair, the other on her back, stroking her as affectionately as he could. He cared little for the prying eyes of the people around him...

'This is all so wrong but it's going to be OK; I'm here. I'm here. We'll go through this together, like always: just you and me. Shush...'

.

.

.

He was helping, they could tell.

That was all she needed now anyway: help, comfort. Someone to hold her hand. Someone to tell her things will be alright, someone to be there for her. Shockingly, he was.

No wonder she had reacted so strongly when he left that day; no wonder it took so long to get back to her. She was afraid not only would her parents leave her, but so would he. And he'd do it out of option unlike her mother...but **just** like her father.

Had she known he'd be committing suicide when her mother died and she just hadn't believed it or was this one more shock to her?

It would be too cruel to her if the first one was the case because not only did Tom walk away from her but it was pronounced by the male role-model of her life walking out on her, too, even if she didn't believe he would do it. Even the thought was a betrayal, Tom knew that better than anyone.

Also, that explained a lot of her rather peculiar behaviour: her long, almost endless hours at work, her messed up schedule, the sleepless nights...if she were trying to find a cure for cancer of that stage, it was no question she would be up all night working about it, when her mother's days were so few.

It wasn't peculiar she kept bringing up her work, too in case he would ask what it was she was doing and sense something was wrong when he'd get a vague answer; and his slight paranoia and jealousy was suddenly explained: if that Fred co-worker of hers was helping hee with this, it was understandable she would mention him often.

He only felt bad she didn't tell him about it and work out a cure with _his_ help. Well, considering –again- the way he just left her, he should just shut up about that.

'I'm sorry Camellia; I really am. I wish I wasn't so foolish as to do that and-...leave you with no one to confine in. I'm so sorry.'

She wailed.

She felt...abandoned not too long ago and now this. Her father did go through with it; he did it. He killed himself. And she-...she had no more relatives.

There was no one else who was connected to her through blood; her grandparents had died in the war, her aunt died after becoming septic when they'd stabbed her as she was working like a nurse, much like Camellia.

Only Camellia had means to heal immediately; her aunt hadn't and died.

And now her parents died, too.

As a morbid afterthought, she chuckled just making the realisation, she figured she would now truly know how Tom felt, how he felt like an orphan. When all people in his life had left him and let him down, when they all decided the easy way out was the best, either by giving him up or giving their lives up.

She was alone now. _Alone like Tom_.

After a long time, she relaxed into his arms; her crying stopped and she felt so tired her hands felt like they were made of lead. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.

Before he could speak to her again, he realized she'd fallen asleep.

He didn't mind, again; he thought it strange how he wouldn't mind she was being such a burden, but once more he attributed to the fact she trusted him enough and that pleased him. Now he saw she trusted him this much, he was more confident about doing and telling things in her presence.

And now that her parents were out of the picture, especially now that they were permanently so, he felt somehow lighter. He was...happy they died in fact.

Now she would be his to handle completely with no outside interferences and Jules would provide but little trouble, seeing Camellia rarely if ever consulted her. Tom knew the only person his complicated girlfriend ever went to for advice was her father.

And now he is dead.

Excellent.

Without even knowing, or planning things were falling in place for him; he felt elated. His luck was beginning to change...

He was satisfied.

* * *

**A/N**: And here is where I stop for now. I must admit, it was an emotional one. What can one say, a girl in her early twenties with these sort of problems has many emotions!

*And that bit of foreign language means: "Yes my commander", in German as you no doubt have already guessed. In short, he's calling her Hitler. He's subtle like that.

So please review~! It's much appreciated always!


	35. Not an update, please read

**A/N**: So...this was supposed to be a new chapter. I'm so very sorry that this isn't what you have expected, but damn it, my inspiration on the certain one has been running a bit low as of late...but after the holidays are over, I promise I will try to update!

I'm so very sorry, I am!

I'll try and make it up to you somehow, I swear! Just tell me what you'd like, ne?

And again, thank you for the reviews, the faves and the alerts. They keep me going in everything!


	36. A funeral and a letter

**A/N**: Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me! I know, it's been long. Bear with me; you know, the animal! Let's all be bears together! Sorry, bad humour. Anyway, this needs a little humour because it's a little depressing. Especially in the beginning. Sorry for that. Go on reading~!

* * *

The next memory they bore witness to, was the most depressing so far. Despite the sun shining bright, reflecting off surfaces in a way it burned the eyes, there was nothing else bright about this place.

Enter a small rural graveyard.

As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a calm sea of black, in all its hues, with floating ships of white in the form of lurid flowers...ironically each and every one would either hold a single or a bouquet of white camellias.

People dressed in black in every form and tone moved slowly yet certainly, following after four men, and then four more, each set holding up a wooden casket.

It was a funeral procession; Camellia's parents' funeral procession.

The woman in question though was nowhere to be seen...had she not come to her parents' own funeral—one she no doubt organised and paid for? Well, the emotional burden was so heavy and so suddenly thrust upon her shoulders; they weren't surprised one bit she decided not to be there...

Or so they thought.

Leading the cortege, there was a figure; she was clad in black fabrics and a small hat, donning a veil in the general area of the eyes, was adorning said woman's face. Her eyes were downcast and her long chocolate hair were hastily made in a simple pony tail.

Camellia was there, between her parents and the rest of the attendees, a grim figure. Her small gloved hand was clutching a tear-stained handkerchief; her shoulders shook insatiably from trying to control her sobs; her eyes were permanently squeezed shut.

She wasn't crying. She was trying not to.

The four people decided to leave her with her privacy; they would blend in with the rest of the crowd. They knew she couldn't actually see them, but they felt she should be left alone in her grief, deal with it how she knew: with pride and solace.

They never realized the man next to her was Tom.

They only did when they heard some women next to them speak uncaringly of the real reason they had gathered:

"Can you believe it? She came to her parents' funeral with her _boyfriend_." an older woman said; she was too clad in black, a modest dress, but her hair, blond, were elaborately made.

"Oh? You mean that tall boy on her right?" another one pitched in; this one had straight black hair and green spiteful eyes, burning holes in Camellia's back.

"Yes him; he's some sort of high school sweetheart! They are not even betrothed yet she brings him here so shamelessly!"

"Oh dear! How awfully inconsiderate of her to do such a thing!" a third one, a small brunette not much younger than the other two, exclaimed—loud enough to be heard by her immediate group yet low enough so no one else would.

"I know, utterly disgraceful; I heard her call him Tom. He is supposed to be this gorgeous young man but I didn't get to see his face." the blond woman continued unaffected by the sudden whispers around them.

They came to a stop and their voices lowered even more.

"I saw him; he **is** gorgeous—stunningly so; and he seems to be growing out his hair and he looks even more handsome!"

"Really?"

"Oh yes, he is dreamy; everything you ever dreamt of as a little girl...!"

When the person saying it stopped for effect, the moment she saw they were taking the bait, she snapped them! "Which is why I suggest you stop talking like that about Camellia; just because she managed to find a man you wish you had it doesn't mean you're free to gossip. Respect the fact that opposite from you, she's _grieving_."

They almost didn't recognise Jules; yes, that person was Jules and next to her, holding her hand –in an ultimate effort to keep her from physically attacking them, they surmised-, was Malfoy. They were both so plain and tired-looking they couldn't distinguish them.

The three women remained silent as Malfoy griped her hand tighter.

"It's not worth it..." he chanted trained; apparently this was a frequent occurrence.

The four watchers felt disgusted; the hypocrisy of people never failed to surprise them in a very bad way.

Silently, they could see Jules wishing—cursing them to experience the same thing her friend did, if only to have a taste of their own medicine. They couldn't blame her for feeling like that, even if ultimately they wouldn't think that way. Because they could see why: even now the three of them looked the youngsters over contemptuously.

Fuck them and their accusations!

Fuck their insensitive comments about how she was a slut!

She cared not they were slandering her even at this event which was supposed to be a final goodbye to people they loved and respected, which was why all these people Camellia never liked were there anyway; she only cared her parents were shown off from this world with a satisfying crowd, because they always wanted it so.

She only cared her friends were there, supporting her; Tom was there holding her hand through literally everything. Had it not been for him, she wouldn't even know how to put this thing together: he made the arrangements, he called all the right people, and he alerted the guests. He even went as far as contacting many a muggle for her sake.

She felt moved to tears...again.

The slight tightening around her suddenly small palm, made her remember Tom was still there, holding her hand through everything. It was enough to appease her; she knew he was reliable and he wouldn't abandon her when things got difficult. He didn't even have to speak: a gesture as simple as it was affective sufficed.

She could now finally comprehend the reason her father felt like she didn't need him anymore; yet by no means did that automatically mean she had forgiven him.

She hadn't.

She didn't know if she ever could. All those beautiful and self-righteous words about the dead being dead and nothing can bring them back, so one should not hold a grudge against the departed souls as it only brought bad fortune and, ultimately, all it was, it was bad manners...

Try telling that to the persons who were left behind alone through the actions of suicide: hadn't it been for someone's complete selfish actions, they wouldn't be alone. But now that Camellia was left alone in the world, without any other anchor than Tom she knew she felt begrudging feelings towards her father, her parents in general—as no doubt her mother had a hand in this, too.

Bitterness was all she tasted when confronted with the thought of what her real sentiments were concerning the matter of their death. Also, disappointment seeped from her every pore, at the thought her own parents never trusted her enough to let her heal her mother when she could.

No, she wanted to be honest with herself: she knew it wasn't a matter of trust; it was all about acceptance. They never truly accepted what she was -if they hadn't accepted her being a witch, which was a part of her, then they hadn't accepted a part of her, consequently her herself- and it cost them their life.

No wonder she accepted a person like Tom; she knew if you want to be with someone you have to accept all parts of them, not just the good ones, even if you don't like them. But what her parents did was not simply not like the fact she was a witch, they strived, literally did everything in their power to never be reminded of it again.

So they ended up having her volunteer as a common nurse; using her own two hands to bandage wounds; using her own two hands to mix ingredients. Her own two hands—not a wand...

Yet, at the same time, she felt inadequate.

Why hadn't her parents accepted her for who she was? Would they never be convinced that magic was a good thing one way or another? Or wasn't she just not good enough? If she'd acted differently would they have? If she were someone more like Dumbledore?

If she were someone more like Tom...?

Tom, Tom, Tom! All that she could think about in a situation like this was his name! How...shameful of her! How ridiculous!

These people were right; she was nothing but a tramp who all she thought about was her boyfriend! All she _could_ think about was his arms—how she wanted to bury herself in them and never look up; how she wanted to disappear from this accursed place with people wearing all their fake sad faces and sad smiles and encouraging facades, and their real hateful glances who only showed themselves when they thought she was looking away-...

"It's over now."

Silence followed Tom's statement.

He looked down at his left worried; was she spacing out or did something worse happen without even him realising?

"Camellia? Didn't you hear me? The service is over. The lawyers are here."

The word "lawyer" seemed to do the trick; she jolted to a start.

"Oh right."

Hey eyes were empty as she looked at the pair of the gentlemen.

"Is there anything amiss?"

She talked and her voice came out...hollow of all emotion.

And that sounded too strange on Tom's sensitive ears as said ears caught every little thing. And now they caught a horrible, enormous change taking place inside her; he knew people tend to weed out the bad in their lives when confronted with their own mortality which was why he'd done all he could to appear as the best thing in hers. It only worried him about how she would look at him from now on.

But he would just have to wait and see.

"Miss Adams, I know we talked to you before; are you sure you want to go through with the deal you proposed?"

"Oh yes,"

She waved a hand dismissively; _was that all you came here for _was what her body language was telling her, but they knew she must be faking the nonchalance because it was a big decision she had to make and made rather easily yesterday.

"I believe I was quite clear about it, too: I want to sell everything my parents had in their names: house, cottage, and boat, whatever! I need none of it."

Her shoulders moved once to indicate she had nothing further to add in the matter and all effort to change her mind was futile.

"But, miss, do mind my pardon, but I believe there are far too many possessions to liquefy; are you not willing to keep at least the summer house and the furniture of your first residence?"

She looked the other way, huffing, as if she was being questioned by a petulant child on something that could not be altered.

"I am certain the cottage will come in handy; it could be the perfect getaway for you and your fiancé."

The lawyer, the one who did all the talking, gulped.

He didn't realise this young, fragile-looking little thing could ever glare at someone in such a fright-inducing manner. Suddenly she looked like a predator who was being annoyed by a fly that was ready to swat away.

He smiled only just.

"I understand; I shall proceed according to your wishes and inform you the moment we have a breakthrough on one of the sales. Miss Adams, sir Riddle..." he excused both themselves and immediately left them alone.

The sooner they got away from that girl, the better.

Tom watched them leave with disdain reflected in his eyes; how crude of them, to appear so blatantly relieved to leave his woman's side. Pathetic really; no man should ever treat others so—or else everyone knows what you think.

And they were supposed to be lawyers.

"Do you think I was right to decide on that? Or do you too think the cottage would make a great summer house?"

Her self-pitying brought him out of his musing; the sound of her conflicted voice was like nails on a cupboard to him.

"I believe you treated this matter with much more respect than it deserved—both in the sense of your parents belongings and putting up with _these_" he threw his chin to the direction of the lawyers "idiots."

She snorted in laughter; it came out jaded.

"I only want this to be over with. Just thinking that I have the option of living in my parents' house is torturous enough to drive me crazy; I want to stay away from there...as much as I never want to leave! I, I feel-..."

"Hey, Camellia!"

A loud male voice made both heads of the parties involved to snap towards its direction. For some unfathomable reason, Tom wanted to break something in half. Immediately.

"I don't believe I missed this! I'm so, so, so sorry!"

It was Michael.

Of course; that was why the voice sounded familiar. That was why he felt like twisting something so much, it faded away: none other but Michael, the very man he was trying to get killed for about a year and a half now, was running down the cemetery, flowers in his hands, clad in every matching shade of black. Oh fucking great.

Now he would get a splitting headache...

Was what he would normally say, but then he saw it happening in slow motion, as his shock was far too great: unceremoniously, the man shoved his flowers in Tom's arms and grabbed Camellia.

He hugged her tightly and let her go only when he heard Tom grunt ever so slightly in a rather threatening fashion.

Then, Tom took the time to re-shove the flowers back to their owner's hands. The nerve of the bastard...!

But when he saw the flowers -when he actually paid attention to them, as he was giving them back more like it-, he cringed: he was giving her daffodils, white roses and pink carnations spiked with amaranth globes and small arbutus and aloes.

Oh the meaning behind this bouquet! It was hurting his brain from all the innuendo to his feelings. He felt he wanted to vomit.

"I'm glad you managed to come, even if belated." Tom started becoming suspicious from the slight kindness that coloured her tone. "And I see Jules found you in time."

What did she mean by that? And why is Michael nodding in agreement?

"The flowers are beautiful, thank you; I was sick of all the white Camellias!"

She hugged him...wait what? Why did she do that? Out of her own volition, too—no one was holding a wand to her back saying she'd be cursed otherwise. He knew he had to keep his jealousy in check and yet all he could think about was punching him.

His temples felt they'd caught on fire.

"I came as soon as I was told, to be quite honest. Are you holding up even remotely?"

"...remotely."

"Worry not, Michael" he spat the name "_**I**_'m here to make sure she feels better."

"And you already do Tom, really."

The small victory that swelled his chest felt too good to be healthy.

"Well, so long you need me, I'll be here. Just say the word and-!"

"You're ready to give up everything for her, we know. But if you really want to do something worthwhile then please make the last arrangements; we need to go."

"What? Are you trying to push-...oh?"

When he saw Camellia's eyes literally pleading him to do as Tom instructed he knew he couldn't say no. He nodded and immediately went on his way.

Yet, as he looked behind him one last time -he tried to make sure she was still standing in all her grief- a heavy sense of foreboding flooded his every sense, making him numb:

He could see Tom looking at Camellia fondly, as she was sniffing lamely into a handkerchief...but not just that; Camellia's image was skewed, nearly obscured by Tom's figure. He was leaning over her not just protectively, but possessively. She was now his forever more. His hand that supported her in fact controlled her; the hug was nothing but a rat trap—once caught, only the owner could release you.

At that illogical canvas, a terrible thought started forming in Michael's mind; a sudden, horrid chill crawled down his spine. And in that moment, he knew: this day onward, her fate would forever be decided by that man, the very man who held her hand in comfort yet he would smile to himself complacently because now she had no one but him to influence her.

Her distorted image would be forever his. And so would she. Michael looked away pained and did as he was told, silently accepting the role handed to him...

.

.

_At an old imposing building in Britain..._

An old woman of seventy seven years of age was sitting in her living room comfortably, next to her husband. He appeared to be about five years older. They were both reading a book in each other's company, just the way they liked it.

He had his pipe in his lips, a nasty habit she always complained about, and a coin in his right hand. The coin was a habit, too but that one she didn't actually mind. He was drinking coffee, and this was his third cup.

Her own drink, her tea, was getting cold, but she didn't care. Heh, she always had _that_ habit, her husband remembered and smiled. She had it long before he even met her, and she was twenty seven when he did, so it felt natural to the man now.

Ah, fifty years of acquaintance; forty seven of marriage. And what a wonderful marriage it had been: all this time, never once did he feel alone and betrayed. She loved him deeply and he loved her unconditionally in return.

"My dear, do you ever have a feeling that something big is about to happen in your life?"

The husband was surprised by the sudden question.

"If I have to answer I'd say yes; that was how felt just before I met you darling."

She smiled content and went back to her book.

Yet none managed to ask anything else because around the time they both decided they'd stewed enough in their hesitation and the torturous thought of "should I speak/ask for an explanation" - and that was about half an hour; how fast time flies when you're in doubt and old enough -, an owl came through the half-open window.

And she was carrying a letter with an insignia the woman would recognise no matter how old or senile she would ever get:

Hogwarts' seal.

Her heart fluttered and her hands trembled. Her husband looked at her alerted.

"Darling, why is someone using an owl to deliver a letter to us? Is this from your friends with magic? Did something happen?"

When she remained silent due to her heavy breathing, her husband sprang up from his chair immediately, too spry for an older fellow. He took her hands into his; he tried to make her look at him in the eyes.

She felt her heart so swollen, it stopped her breath from coming out; she felt her lungs so big, they wanted to expand out of her chest! Her eyes were watering. She was...panicking.

"This is just a panic attack; the doctor said you should start by levelling your breathing. So do it with me; one...two. Inhale...exhale. That's it. Good girl."

She hadn't had one of those in ages; if it weren't for her husband, she might have needed to use her wand again, after so many years...!

"Thank you dear, I'm all better now."

"...may I ask what is disconcerting you? The last time you suffered from something like this had been when that first war of yours had ended and you still hadn't found what you were looking for. And now, you tell me something important will happen and then you seize? I demand an explanation as to why you'd worry yourself so much."

"... I told you, I had a feeling; it isn't my fault to be verified by later event nor did I know anything prior to this, or else I wouldn't have reacted so."

"Darling, I'm not blaming you-!"

"Still" she stated annoyed she was interrupted before she made her entire point "I do recognise your right to know the source of my sudden discomfort.

Then, allow me to tell you, this is a letter from my old school, Hogwarts."

"For witchcraft and wizardry, am I correct?"

She nodded.

"Open it then; see what they want. Maybe if it is pertinent to that secret of yours then I'll finally know what has been driving you almost out of your wits for the last fifty years and more."

She nodded again, and gracefully took the offered piece of paper from her husband's steady hands, unlike her own; thus he held it for her and she read out loud:

"_Dear Julia Adams Wesley,_

_In concern with latest discoveries and information brought to light by certain sources, we request your presence here in Hogwarts, school for witchcraft and wizardry in two days from now, when you must be present at the Great Hall._

_It is all in direct relevance with informing you on what truly happened to a certain Camellia Adams. The mystery has finally been solved._

_You can bring your muggle husband along._

_We shall have prepared for you the Hogwarts express as means of transport; be at the usual platform by ten o'clock._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Headmistress McGonagall."_

"Honey...did you read Camellia **Adams**? Wasn't that your maiden name?"

Suddenly, the man's eyes flashed as a sign of realization. "Don't tell me she's some sort of estranged or lost sister of yours...!"

He watched the silent tears streaming down his wife's wrinkled yet still beautiful face and the pangs at his heart only got fiercer than three seconds ago; he had no idea something as big as that was what troubled Jules all along.

The fact she decided not to speak a word of her great suffering even to him, even after all this time somehow hurt him though. Wasn't he her one true love? Why didn't she confine in him? Maybe he could do nothing in the end but wasn't love all about sharing and trusting the other? Wasn't this an enormous deal to her? Why didn't she tell him what might have been the most important scar in her life?

"No, no she's-...we're not related. We were best friends who met at school and up till the day she disappeared...! I adopted the name in memory of her. She-she just...she just disappeared so suddenly! And I had no ways of—!"

He moved to hug her immediately, in hopes of making her relax; she was shaking and sniffing and sobbing.

His heart cried out for her.

"Why didn't you tell me anything all this time? Had I any knowledge of this-!"

"You'd do nothing, just like me, and like all before you who tried. The ones who knew kept their traps shut and the ones who wanted to know either ended up dead, incapacitated or kept in the dark. And I'd promised myself, a very long time ago...I would never tell anyone about this, not before I found out what happened; I owe her parents so much."

"Her parents are still alive...?" he wondered scandalized.

But Jules smiled sadly...

"No dear; her parents are dead, died before she disappeared—thank God. But I owe it to their graves; to their headstones. So after I find out, will you accompany me to their resting place? Then we shall make the announcement together...!"

"As you wish..."

"But you know there is something that has always been troubling me about those graves..."

The discussion took a turn for the bleak, but he didn't show his malcontent, especially now that his wife finally shared her big secret, after all this time.

"Every single time I visited them, at the anniversary of their demise, there were always flowers there already—flowers _I_ didn't buy certainly..."

_Wow; creepy_, her husband thought but made an attempt to smile in support. "I am certain all will be revealed..."

Thus their conversation was concluded. They spoke none of it, till the day they were required to attend that fateful meeting at Hogwarts...

.

.

"This is a horrible thing we're doing..."

Everyone looked at Ron with the utmost surprise; they had the vague idea he was referring to watching these memories, but they could be wrong. And they'd better had, more accurately he better not mean that since he was the first one to be thrilled about this. And hypocrisy never was a trait of the young pureblood...

"Define "thing" dear."

"Well, you know, watching this woman's life, all of it; we're doing it against her will-not that she's around to complain, but I bet no person would want to have other people poking in on their lives.

And we just watch her plunge more and more into the depths of Voldemort's control and it's so...sad!"

He didn't have to say it; they all felt like that. Especially Hermione! She'd read the whole blasted thing and she thought watching the memories would help her visualise it better...but the only thing she found was an unwanted source stress.

Surely, she wanted to put a face to the woman, listen to her voice, and see her house or apartment or whatever –her personal space generally- in order to get a better feel of her but this was cruel on her. And she knew the ending, which only made it worse for her, to carry that with her and Ginny wouldn't even talk about it. Hermione figured it had to do with the fact she related to her somehow being taken in by Tom. Understandable, considering her second year.

"We should carry on for now; if we still don't like it, we'll stop. Let's go on."

They took the next pouch and poured the memory; with a heavier heart than before, they dived in...

They were in Tom's apartment this once; it was the first time they'd ever seen it: smaller than Camellia's with less luxury items, but certainly more organised. Even though the girl too was very neat, this bordered compulsion: everything that could be dated or stacked on a pile, it was.

Things weren't out of place and even the sofas were looking pristine...

He certainly had issues with that; Harry had seen it on his own wife when she would get nervous a couple of times, too. Only Tom's was permanent. Somehow, that too made him feel a little worse for the girl.

Tom was on his desk writing again; they could see his tilted head and his hand fiercely going left and right, up and down on his paper. His desk was facing the living room though, turned away from the window, in favour of being able to see whoever was in his house.

Namely Camellia, who was lying on his sofa as if she owned the place.

She appeared to be reading a book idly turning one page...seeing the sofa was facing the office as well they thought it was peculiar she wouldn't glance up constantly as she usually would, to catch a glimpse of him.

_He_ was however; they thought that was the purpose of the positioning of the desk on the first place but they still found it strange how he would be, bottom mind, keeping an eye on her like this. She couldn't have gone self-destructive from the last time they saw her right, everyone but Hermione thought?

"I'm just finishing this." he said, almost stressed, as if she'd given him a deadline.

"Take your time dear..." she replied in return, sounding nothing but relaxed, never looking up from her book.

Why were the tables turned like this?

He wrote even faster; in seconds, he was making his signature at the bottom part of the paper and after he looked at it proudly for a moment, he put it down and went to her. She ignored him.

"I'm done..."

"I can see that."

He raised an eyebrow annoyed; he hated when she didn't pay any attention to him. "How?" he spat "You aren't even looking at me."

She giggled, putting her book finally down. "Aw, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you feel neglected."

He screwed up his face, turning the other way. Did she always have to be so blunt about things? Ever since her parents died! OK, he was being mean and he would burn in hell for thinking this but, let's face it, he had much worse offenses than that to make him end up there so no harm done. Even if it weren't actually true, he didn't care.

"That is not it; I am just always second on your list of things to occupy yourself with, even when you're with me..."

"My, my; it was _my_ parents that died three months ago yet it's still **you** that wants all of the attention..." she joked good-naturedly and pecked his lips.

He still pouted, not returning her kiss.

Yet they were more than shocked; three months was a bit too soon to joke about one's parents dying, was it? What sort of nerves did this person have? If she wasn't faking it, then she was coaxed into it by Tom, no doubt about it!

"Ha ha, why are you so miffed? I'm paying attention to you now...besides, I told you, I was joking before; and it's you who had brought it up and were so eager to talk to me now..."

Let him rewind a second: that thing she said she only joked about...it was about a woman named Hepzibah Smith; an old, enormous and utterly perverted woman who was connected to him only because of her most precious belongings.

Seeing his job was to scout out such valuables and small treasures, it was no surprise he'd been in her home once or twice but, he admitted bitterly when Camellia threatened him into speaking what had been wrong, she'd been hitting on him! And he didn't mean that sweet, old womanly kind of teasing a bit, but the exact opposite!

And Camellia had been teasing.

Surely, in order to serve his own dark purposes, he'd been somewhat well-receiving said flirt but only up to a certain extent; in no way could he stand her actually...touching him! She tried to—she even succeeded in hugging him once! Vile...!

That day he'd crawled into Camellia's bed, feeling quite sick at the memory, and tried to wash off all the bad experiences by shamelessly groping the girl. Considering the time, -it'd been three pm- it was unusual for him to be at her apartment so she asked him what had happened. When he refused to speak and went on with his "attack" she refused to let him touch her again unless he told her what was wrong –thus the threat effect-.

Begrudgingly he spilled the beans; and boy, did she have a field day with it? She'd laughed and giggled and snorted and cried tears of joy; he'd thrown her off her own bed thrice before he started groping her again with a passion.

And that was a week ago...and she was still making fun of him about it. "You're enjoying my misfortune."

It was a statement, not a question; she giggled into her hand but still didn't make his mood better.

"So are you, but I never felt the need to point it out. It isn't as if this is the first time I'm doing it either..."

"Certainly; it's the first time it annoys me though."

"Aw...but why? She only wants some love, too; I bet she was quite a spectacular woman in her youth and merely wants to relive all of the situations from then. Don't be too cruel on her..."

"Stop being so nice to everyone but me; it irks me terribly."

She smiled affectionately; she opened her arms widely and moved toward him...he played hard to get, trying to avoid her, even getting up, but she tackled him efficiently. She buried him in her chest -he didn't complain about that- and stroke his hair fondly -he didn't complain about that either-.

Ever since her parents' death she'd been extra...moody with people, but she'd been all the sweeter to him. He could see how traumatic this had been for her, yet he couldn't help but be glad they were dead: two less people to worry about; two less pests to deal with.

And an even darker side of him had enjoyed it; now she would know what it was to be all alone in the world, without anyone to take care of her-without someone to count on for the things that mattered...

"That makes it a bit better."

He almost purred the words as she held him close; he made himself comfortable in her arms after he turned around, and lay back with her. "You know, she has some very interesting things; you have no idea the valuables she has in that house of hers! Even stuff from the founders!"

"Hogwarts founders?" she echoed him shocked. She could never stop admiring what little coddling would do to this man. If it were any other case, he'd probably never speak of this.

When she felt him nod, she gaped.

"No way...! Could I come-...err, I mean, could I somehow see them, too?"

"Oh, she hasn't shown me _those_;" he said absent-mindedly "she's only been talking about them vaguely enough. She hasn't even actually said the names or the word founders yet, but I know it to be theirs."

She quirked an eyebrow interested...though a tiny bit alarmed by the sudden change in his voice. She looked at him wondered—in truth she only wanted to make sure his expression didn't change along with his tone, but she was met with disappointment when she saw the hungry look he had.

Strangely, as soon as he percepted she was looking at him, he schooled his face into something more neutral, she realised astonished to actually see it happening like this. When she pursed her lips in question, but he thought she only inquired about the items and how he could be so certain; he was wrong.

"Well, it's hardly a farfetched idea given everyone's been praising her collection of the utmost rare items; also, I've too been searching for them and that is one of the few places left to look."

"Aha" she said convinced though her alarm remained "and what will you do after you find them...?"

Her question now alarmed _him_; her phrasing made it sound as if she wanted to know of his reaction, yet not in an innocent way.

He feigned bewilderment; he had to buy time to discover her true intentions. It couldn't be she saw right through his plan so easily, could it? How could she know he was planning something horrible for the woman, in the lines of death of course, when he'd talked about it no more than an hour in total?

"What do you mean love?"

But her blushing was genuine; she looked the other way ashamed, her voice a little lower in pitch. "Well...will you show them to me if she ever presents them to you?" she asked shyly, stealing only glances.

He laughed; aw, he was such a fool to think she'd ever figure something out so fast. Really now, he was giving her too much credit. He shook his head amused by her antics and strokes her check assertively.

It was surprising to him how soft it was, every single time; how hot she felt under his thumbs. He smirked; he could still disconcert and excite her with a mere touch. He was still in control.

"Certainly; I'll try to bring you to her, or maybe somehow make her sell them and I'll bring them here myself..."

"Aw, you're sweet."

But her mind was miles away, to that old lady; how would he make her sell? She'd asked around about her and she was infamous for her stubbornness of never giving up something she owned; after all, how in earth would she keep the most talked-about collection in the land? Did that mean foul play would be involved?

He had him oh so very capable of that...

Then her mind wandered unexpectedly to Michael; how was he doing?

Honestly, she didn't know. He was amongst her best friends yet she had no real idea, other than what Tom was telling her or, more accurately, allowing her to know. He hadn't allowed either one the means of direct contact and what once had been the "no need to fight with my boyfriend over it" matter, it now started becoming a "what the hell did my boyfriend do" sort of matter.

But why did she jump from this old woman to Michael...? Foul play; that was the only connection she could make. So did she think, after all this time, that what's happened with Michael was foul play from Tom? And if so, why did she just think of it?

"Cam?" he twisted a stray lock of hair around his finger. "You look thoughtful."

And he always hated it; he never knew what she could be thinking when she did that. Her big orbs seemed ever-clever, and he could only feel judged when she did that. And that he also hated.

"Oh, do I? Pardon me, didn't mean to space out like that." she said sweeter yet and cupped his hand.

"What distracted you?"

"Nothing of import..."

Camellia didn't lie often; in fact she did it rarely, which was precisely why she was so bloody good at it. "Say, the lawyers contacted me yesterday; they'd said most of the real estate is sold and by the next month I'll have a rather large sum of money to...spend or whatnot."

"Sublime." he merely said, failing to see her point.

"Um...and I was thinking...maybe we could go look for a new house?"

Oh this was what she was getting at. "We already have houses—well, apartments essentially but-."

"That's just the thing! All this time, I've been thinking. I don't want to be like my parents. And I most certainly won't end up like them. But you see" she sat up, causing him to sit up, too and look at her "I already have a job; and once you too leave your current job, I'm sure-!"

"Not again Camellia, we've been over this: I'm not leaving this job. I like it and it fulfils me, for now at least."

She huffed so annoyed he thought she would blow him away. "That job is paying so bad you have to relentlessly write in order to supplement your income!"

"That's my prerogative."

"Ugh, whatever, I wasn't getting to that. What I was trying to say is, since I'll have enough money to buy a house, why shouldn't I; a modest, nice little house or one of those new apartments with enough rooms for a family!"

"You're the only one left."

She looked away as if he'd slapped her. "I know that," she bit out annoyed "but I think I can make my own family; don't _you _think so, too?"

And then his brain sort of froze, incapable of thinking anything else other than the fact she had just implied she wanted to marry him. That was what she was saying, right? Making her own family and if he agreed if she could...oh fuck no! He didn't want to get married and have children and the like!

Sensing his panic like a dog smells food, she rolled her eyes. "Not now you dim-witted prat; I wouldn't be starting a family **now**! But, I _will_, in the future. I want to have children at one point in my life; I don't wanna die old and forgotten. And if you're with me even now, I guess you should know that."

He sat there, looking at her like an idiot for maybe the second time in his life. "Huh." He lamely said, because all other responses seemed to fail him.

She rolled her eyes again. "So I want to go find a home for me and my future family, either you may be included or not. Would you like to help me with that or should I enlist the help of the likes of Malfoy?"

"Abraxas you mean?" she nodded; he snorted. "I thought you hate each other still."

"We have developed a begrudging mutual respect where we both insult one another but both recognise each other's strengths. And his house-hunting skills are remarkable, so..."

"Yes, but why in earth would _he_ help _you_?"

"Because I'll help him with something else; it's an understanding." she replied shrugging.

He didn't like it, but he didn't say anything. It was a...positive thing she went along even remotely with one of his Death Eaters—he had completely managed to bleach his mind over the whole deal with the kiss. "Then, you may enlist his help" he made up his mind quickly "for I am too busy."

She stopped herself from gaping. "Fair enough..."

"And what do you mean either I be in it or not? Are you planning to _leave_ me for another man when you decide to have a family?" he'd only just picked up on that, mind him, and he wouldn't have her dismissive attitude! "Maybe someone rich and well-off—is that why you've been asking about Michael lately and now bring this up? Is that why you want me to leave my job for a better-paying one—you have everything figured out!"

She merely rolled her eyes and smacked him at the back of his head. "First you almost have a heart-attack when I mentioned I wanted a family and now you nearly have a fit at the thought I won't be including you in it. What is earth is wrong with you my love?"

The question was left hanging in the air between them and even though the humour was evident in her voice, she did raise a valid point that entered Tom's mind and made a nest there; what was his deal so suddenly? Was he really afraid of losing her from his life? That seemed to be the case. But why...?

And then he looked at his hand; ah, but of course. He couldn't make a move if she weren't safe—no wonder it's vital she stays close. He cursed himself for his little slip up and shook his head, turning and tackling Camellia while kissing her on the neck forcibly, like some sort of punishment.

They both laughed and kissed and fondled each other...but the thought remained like a small tortuous device at some crevice of his mind.

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**A/N**: Please leave a review~!


	37. Justified Anger Issues

**A/N**: This is not a decoy. This is a real update. I'm inexcusable, it's been more than a year. I'm so very sorry. But I haven't given up on this; I hope you haven't either. I hope I satisfy you somewhat now...somewhat. It isn't too long but it's one chapter away from real shit hits the fan-in their relationship. Don't kill me and enjoy the latest installment.

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. .

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"What a pleasant surprise this is **not**! Why in Merlin's name are you in my office Camellia," asked the blond man without looking up from his desk, still poring over his documents?

They stacked, Camellia noticed, meaning he's been neglecting his paperwork for some time now. That was an odd thing, considering everything Tom's been telling her about him—drowning in work and the like.

"I require your skills Malfoy; I want you to help me with finding a new house and I have enough money to satisfy even your extravagant tastes of sumptuousness!"

Only then did he look up. "That's a hyperbole my dear," he noted, arrogant as ever.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious."

"Then I am guessing by the fact you are so casual about this that Tom has lifted the ban of us being in the same room? How wonderful." He stood up, getting a file he'd just signed and going to his bookcase.

"I can see you are overjoyed by the fact...either way, I care not what he says. So! How has work been? Been skipping a lot? So many papers for one office...!"

Malfoy had just found the folder he'd been looking for and put the file in it; then he took another out, while he pierced her with a knowing look. "Oh please my dear—do not try and pretend to be unaffected by Tom's-"

"Orders" she offered, sitting on top of his desk, ignoring the chair right next to her? She'd started finding talking to Malfoy a thrilling experience: the fact he was so much easier to read and so much willing to belittle her and himself spoke volumes to her. "But do answer me, will you?"

"Yes, I've been skipping a lot of office-time due to unforeseen events that I had to monitor but they did relate to my own occupation."

He went and sat in his own chair, looking mightily troubled by her choice of positioning. "I do understand you are an Unspeakable and as such people tend to tolerate your quirkiness but do forgive me if I say I do not like you showing me your breasts nor do I appreciate your clothing. Either change or sit like a normal person."

"Oh, you want me to change? Maybe strip for you, too," she snapped, actually going for her blouse, her hands on the hem. "Do tell me if you have a favourite song."

Coyly enough, he smiled and interlaced his fingers under his chin. "You should know—I bet Jules has told you."

She rolled her eyes, dropping her hands. "Just shut it and promise to help me with the house. Let us say we'll meet up at...three on Thursday?"

"That would be terrible, to suffer your presence for more than ten minutes without Jules, but I suppose I'll manage."

"So we have a date. And," he was walking away, looking over her shoulder; when she reached the door she spoke a little louder to be heard as her head was turned "in that spirit, try to think of me in my bra; it'll make me sufferable."

"**Only** in your bra? What-no matching panties? Or even _suspenders_?"

"I leave that to your own imagination Goldilocks; just remember: black, blue and lace. Black, blue and lace everywhere~" she finished as she walked out, leaving the door open on purpose.

He went to close it, smirking as he watched her sway her hips meretriciously and said, almost shouting: "If it's a black and blue _corset_ with lace then wear something to imply it! Love me one of those!"

Then he only smirked some more to her gesture of hearing him and shook his head at the mental image she gave him and distantly thought about Jules in that corset...hum, he may even ask her to wear one—he always had a fondness for the colours Camellia mentioned together.

"So Abraxas," an all too familiar voice interrupted his amused musings "you love Camellia's corsets do you?"

Distantly, Camellia heard Tom's low and dark voice – his scary voice she'd called it – growling at Malfoy. Oh the little joys in life...! But what she'd just found out from Abraxas worried her. This was the first time she'd actually caught Tom lying to her: he'd told her she couldn't see Malfoy because he'd been all too busy with office work, he'd _explicitly_ said office work, implying he was doing business with people high up in the ladder thus he had no time for her menial tasks or worries so she should leave him alone.

But now she finds out the exact opposite. He wasn't at his office, he wasn't even doing things immediately beneficiary to his regular job; he was off doing something for Tom and now she knew it.

So, considering this is the first time she caught him on a lie and not due to him wavering but seeing it in an environment that wasn't his to control, it implied he might have been lying to her for many more things and she'd have no idea! In fact, if he lied so well she believed him without much doubt it meant he got so good at it with practise! Then...what else had he been lying about to her?

She had to find out one way or another...

But she stopped short for a moment; was this lie Tom's effort to "ban" her, as Malfoy had put it, from his presence? She flared! That stupid, manipulative, bastard! He presumed to control her, her life and her acquaintances!? She'd show him...!

.

. .

. .

.

Two weeks later and Malfoy had rejected all seven apartments she'd sniffed out. Naturally, he wouldn't lower himself enough to pull favours for her and get a decent apartment in a good neighbourhood; he'd only offer his opinion on ones she'd pick.

She'd been more than annoyed to realise one way or another, she bumped into someone she knew, or spotted someone Tom knew following her around. Did this mean he did not trust her? Did he not trust Malfoy? Heh, more likely, since _he_ was the one who'd shamelessly kissed her then but it still got on her nerves. Of course, it didn't really matter. She had a plan to make him stop and she would put it in motion as soon as she found a house Malfoy would approve of!

The fact Abraxas was a hard man to please when it came to accommodations was a blessing! That way, the period of time they spent together was prolonged and without knowing it, Malfoy played right into her hands. Extended periods of time were necessary for her plan to work and Abraxas, by being a perfectionist and checking every possible aspect of a house before discarding it, enabled her plan to spend at least three hours together four times a week.

This was the fourth time of the second week, second Saturday. And they were in a muggle community, to the blond's man displeasure. Certainly, it was a magical house, appearing only a third of its original size – it was a perfect regular apartment to anyone else's eyes other than a witch or wizard's –. It was cosy and felt like home though, and that was what attracted Camellia. The walls were a beautiful soft ecru with a tinge of orange in it. The furniture were all black, oak wood and the floors were a matching wooden quality but in a soft brown colour.

The bath was the only thing both coloured and themed differently: marble everywhere, black and blue tiles making up everything. The mirror escaped only to be laced with a wonderful matching blue wooden cupboard in a very odd shape: crescent like the moon but then it curved again! More like an "s" pattern...Tom would surely like that!

The bedroom was entirely different, too and not a good different as well but that could be changed according to their personal tastes – from the gaudy mauve colours it featured that made both seeing it cringe –.

All in all, it was a home even Abraxas couldn't say no to! It didn't have the garden and the balcony she wanted but it had the admirable quality of well-made wooden floors Malfoy "requested". It would keep warmth in the colder days, he'd said and she'd agreed, which was why she obliged him on the first place.

"This looks the best place so far! Disregarding the horrible colours in the bedroom, which can easily go away with a flick of a wand, I think we found our winner."

"And you decided that after two hours of gazing at the ceiling and the floors? What exactly did these tell you"she asked, with her hands crossed over her chest? Her playful mood was evident in the quirk of her mouth.

"...so witty Adams, always so witty." said Malfoy not amused and glared.

"Never mind my genius dear Abraxas" he gave her a raised eyebrow "and tell me if this is your final answer."

"...it is."

"Wow! After eight houses, almost thirty hours, and many, _many_ leg aches you finally decided...! That was almost way too hard, wasn't it?"

"Oh shut it! At least I got you to search more thoroughly and you ended up in a far better place than the one you first showed me."

"...yeah alright, I can't argue with that. Anyway!" She changed the thoughtful mood and became bright! She smiled widely at him – kind of scaring him in the process–. "Let's celebrate! I've made arrangements and-" she trailed off but with the promise of continuing as she raised her finger and gestured for him to wait; she went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from a bin full of half-melted ice "ta-duh! I have brought us champagne! Just the two of us!"

"...what do you mean," asked the blond man, looking like a child who was afraid to take the cookie his mother offered him in fear she was just teasing? "I do not like these muggle alcoholic beverages..."

"Now, now Abraxas honey, did we not say there would be no lies between us? So, grab the glass on your right" she gestured to a hovering glass over his right shoulder "and the one on your left" he looked to see the second one arriving just then "and let's drink up!"

He hesitated; she shook lightly the bottle to show it was still there, to entice him. Frowning, he was looking between the bottle and the wall, the bottle and the wall...moments later he grabbed both glasses and grinned! "To hell with it; if I got to spend as many hours as you claim in nothing but your presence, I need it," stated the man, far more amiably than his words.

"That's the spirit," she agreed lively and now shook the bottle hard. "I hope you do not mind the foam!"

"It would not be a celebration otherwise!"

"I knew you and I can communicate after all..."

She poured right after she finished shaking; there was champagne everywhere! Her hands, the floor, even Abraxas clothes...! "Oh God, sorry! I'm so sorry! Please, I'll just take this-"

"Relax, Adams, relax. It's only a pair of trousers...what is up with you?"

"It's just-ah, that looks expensive! Know what, take it off fast! Give to me and I'll go clean it, OK?"

Her sudden fumbling made him curious. "Relax Cam', we can always just make it go away with our-!"

"Just do what I'm telling you and go sit over there" she shouted all of the sudden! He took a step back.

"Alright...relax..." he emphasized the last word "relax. Here."

He started undoing it slowly to make a show out of the fact he complied with what she ordered; calm, she sat at her "corner" two safe metres away. She extended her hand waiting and a moment later he handed it to her. "There. Take it and go do whatever it is that you-...wanna do to it."

She disappeared before he even finished; he pursed his lips yet still couldn't understand what the bloody hell came over her. As he started taking more steps back, he ran into something he didn't know what it was but he knew it was wet! Disgusted he looked back to see a freshly painted...something! It wasn't a wall, nor a picture yet it just hang there...what the hell? Still disgusted, he shook whole and took off his now stained with paint shirt!

He let both his jacket and his vest on the sofa and proceeded to immediately take off his article of clothing. He went into the bathroom where he found her hunched over the tub, washing his pair of trousers.

"Do the shirt, too; some dimwit left there a sheet of painted paper just for giggles apparently and I got it dirty!"

"OK, leave it there."

She showed the washing basin; he left it there and promptly left the scene. He hated watching these "womanly" tasks nearly as much as doing them. He hastily went to the living room, parading around in nothing but his knickers. His perfectly combed hair was in their band, sitting at the nape of his neck falling on his bare back. His chest had become more muscular compared to the last time she'd seen it but the scar was there...

"By the way, what kind of undies are you wearing Adams?"

"...that came completely out of nowhere."

"Come on, you saw mine. It's only fair I know yours."

"Just sit tight in that chair, dear and hold on to it."

He actually did as she told him: he went to the big comfy armchair he himself had pointed out to her when they'd first arrived and made himself at home. Hands on the armrests, feet apart, he sat straight in the soft yet hard leather. He rested his head back. "Just answer the bloody question Adams," snapped the man, closing his eyes!

She took her time answering: "...green. Green and black."

"Heh! You wore them on purpose in case I asked," he asked suspicious "or are you lying?"

"...yes and no."

He chuckled. "You're really something...and you still didn't answer clearly. Anyway, ready yet or what? I want to leave this place young."

"You mean this wretched earth? No, no dear; only the good die young. You'll live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

"I already am the villain! I mean, look at me: almost naked in a house with my over-controlling best friend's girlfriend...I live on the edge baby."

"Yeah, danger living Malfoy, danger living. Now open them eyes boy, you look ridiculously molestation-ready."

"Do I, miss A-...?"

He stopped.

He gawked. He stared. He felt his throat going dry... "Wh-wh-wh-what are you...?" He swallowed and _tried_ to smile. "They **are** green and black after all."

Camellia, smiling deviously as she posed from the threshold, leaned even more; in all of her half-naked glory, she just stood there, showing him her "assets" in nothing but her laced, green and black underwear. "You believe me now, do you not?"

It was a corset with suspenders, too. _Just like I asked_, he noticed either mortified or really amused -he couldn't decide just yet -. He snorted half with laughter, half with disbelief. "...yes. And by all means, you look lovely it them."

"Why thank you for the compliment."

"You earned it...!"

She chuckled; striking another pose as she threw him his clothes – he'd just noticed she had them in her hand – she flipped her hair back. "Here are your clothes, clean! Dry them and put them on! We have to be going now, so be quick."

"Am I the problem? What about _you_!?"

"...I'm fast to put my clothes on; got many months of practise on it."

Shaking his head at the unpredictable woman and her latest form of torture, he started getting dressed. He truly hoped none of Tom's men were close, or else he'd be paying for something not only was it not his fault, he also had no way to avoid! Suddenly paranoid, he looked everywhere around him through the windows; he saw no one – thank Merlin – but that didn't necessarily mean there wasn't anyone...he just prayed to whoever was listening, Tom would confront Camellia about this first.

.

The same night, Camellia had called on Tom to tell him of the latest news. They'd found a home finally, she and Malfoy, and now they could move in their new house! Well, after they painted over that horrid mauve, certainly and actually _paid_ for it. But when she went to his house, she found him a little, too very much angry at...something. He looked a little ticked off and if he looked like that before she even managed to open her mouth then that only meant one thing: he was furious!

And if her guess was correct then he was furious because he somehow got hold of information that she stripped for Abraxas! And if he had then...she was right. He was watching her and she just caught him red-handed.

"Hello my love," said she purposefully brightly and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek "how are you this fine evening?"

"Well."

"You don't sound like it though...! Ah, no matter," she cut him off before he even got to protest and explain his problems, which he was about to do, "I have amazing news to tell you!"

She explained in short the deal with the house, as well as that it was furnished and that she'd get to save some money for later needs as the apartment was in a discount. Beaming, she explained that it had three bedrooms, two bathrooms – one small, one regular – a living room and a joined kitchen with the dining room.

She finished by doing the one thing he hated more than being looked down upon and that was pinching his cheek, with firmness, and then grabbing his face and shaking it.

"And you're so happy just because of that, are you?"

"..." she looked around, in an effort to show him how ridiculous he was being, as if he was talking to someone else and not her with that sort of scornful tone. "Yes."

"I think not."

"...why?"

"Because I have evidence in fact, proving you and that filthy back-stabbing snake Malfoy are having an affair! Tch!"

He stood up huffing, his hands on his waist in fists. He started pacing up and down. "No wonder you dragged this house-hunting of yours like this! No wonder you actually wanted _**him **_to help you! Everything you did, just to get to spend more time together because of the ban I'd imposed! Oh how _sneaky_ of you to appeal to my boredom of such trivial tasks! How ingenious of you to use my fear of commitment to get to see him again!"

Spouting accusations and firing blames left and right he kept going in circles around her, like a wild animal and its prey. She didn't feel cornered though, since this "victim" had an ace up its sleeve...

"Tom stop being-!"

"What? Ridiculous? Stupid? _Paranoid_? Which one is it? You've called me all three of them before and now, turns out, you were nothing but talk," snapped the man, with a crazed look in his eye; he was but an inch away from her, glaring down, screaming in her face!

And her calm poker face drove him off the deep end!

"Don't be funny now darling; I never did anything close to being unfaithful-."

"Oh but you did! You did and I even have proof of it!"

She raised an eyebrow provocatively, never losing her teasing smile. How could she be so relaxed when he said something like that? He wanted to know what she was hiding! If this was true, what he was saying was, then she wouldn't be so calm about it: she'd be defiant or angry or she'd play the offended card! But she did nothing! So what was she...?

He reached behind his back and produced a photograph, always searching her face for any indication she was having any emotion other than her "oh I know everything" look. He literally shoved it in her face and showed her its contexts.

"What does this picture show?"

"Oh that's me through a window view! And...I'm wearing no clothes! I'm in my underwear; in fact, I'm in the underwear I wore today. Oh wait, this _**is**_ today!"

"Oh indeed," he shouted in her face towering over her! "And who is the person sitting in the chair looking straight at you?"

"This is Malfoy naturally; can't you see his characteristically blond hair and scar? We're in the house we closed today," she stated still grinning...

He narrowed his eyes. She was too clam for this. Something was wrong. "You're...somehow messing with me, aren't you?"

"Heh! Took you long enough to figure it out..."

"What did you do? What did you _really_ do?"

"...I stripped for him," just as he was about to be outraged she continued, suddenly growing more and more sober and angry: "so Nott could see me from across the street and report to you and I could verify that you indeed have people following me around!"

His eyes widened; he gulped and now the roles were reversed: he was the one who had to account for a misgiving and she was the one in need for an explanation! She, from all the centimetres lower she was, now climbed on her toes to look more threatening. "Why in earth do you have people following me around? What is this affair with the ban I keep hearing from both you and Malfoy? And what in earth makes you think it is OK for you to control me?"

"I...most certainly I did not mean to..."

"To what? Control my life? Try to play God? What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?"

"Look, if anything I was just worried that you'd might-."

"Cheat on you? I would never do that and you know it! How could you _not_ know it? I love you and I cherish you, on the contrary of you apparently who trusts me as far as you can throw me! Why are you so scared I might cheat on you? Are _you_ doing it and you're afraid I may do the same? No, I don't take you for that kind f person. So what is it—you're just that insecure? You? Really Tom!"

"Wha-you still stripped for him!"

"Just to annoy you! I did nothing else, it was harmless!"

"How can it be harmless? And that's—my, my favourite corset of yours but now someone else has seen it so it can no longer be and-...I mean you...ugh! You really did this just to get on my nerves? Couldn't you, like any other person, confront me about it? Simply talk to me about it!"

"No! Because you'd lie again and I didn't know if I'd believe you or not! You've been doing it a lot apparently and I could never see through it so it got me thinking, so I did this! And now, like it or not, I'll go have a drink, _at the Leaky Cauldron_, **with my very good friend Hector **whom I haven't seen in ages!"

She "humph"-ed; she looked distinctively the other way as she spun around and made for the door.

"Camellia!"

His cry for attention was cut as she slammed the door behind her. She would never, ever trust him again. And the worst part was, he somehow knew it, too. After battling with himself for a couple of moments, he grabbed his jacket, took his keys and followed after her. He ran down the stairs amazingly fast – his grown-out hair were getting in his way annoyingly, blocking some of his vision – and saw her climbing into a taxi, heading for down town London no doubt.

Furious, he jumped in another taxi immediately and ordered the driver to follow the one she entered.

"A curious request, young man."

"That's my _woman_ in there; follow her now!"

"A-as you wish," said the driver a little scared; his look was frenzied and his tone was adamant. Nothing else mattered than his order. So he did it without much talking-back.

True to her word, _how funny_ he thought _when even angered she's honest_, she arrived at down town London and took the all too familiar route to the famous by then Leaky Cauldron. The four people watching them were there with Voldemort in the whole taxi ride, watching the expressions on his face. They seemed to be changing frequently—from angry to worried, from bothered to anxious, from sorry to accusing.

When both taxis came to a stop, he watched her trot to the back of the place where the pub she was searching for was located, a gateway between regular London and magical London, and after he threw some money to the driver, not caring to count them, he took the same course.

"Wait here," he'd said before he leaves "I'll be back."

And just like that, he ran to the same place as her; just before the scenery changes, they spotted the young dark lord coming out from the other way…with Camellia thrown over his shoulder, quite literally! She was thrashing and cursing and she was trying to hit him, but he just didn't care! He made sure none of her punches landed – how exactly they were still confused – and calmly found his way back to his cabbie.

He entered the vehicle, throwing the woman inside. The cabbie kept staring. "Well, what are you waiting for? Drive." At the same time Camellia was screaming and being all over the place; Tom had to restrain her hands as twice did she try to open the door to her freedom.

"Bu-but, she's-..."

"I swear, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, the day will come and I'll-!"

"She used my full name! Drive, man; drive!"

Like that was some magical understanding between them, the guy behind the wheel looked so terrified he hit on the pedal hard; the tires screeched and the cab was moving with high speed; yet, inside it the protests of the woman never abated. She wanted to physically harm him for what he was doing, according to her ravings, and she would soon get her revenge for this. Also the fact he presumed to control her life was no less than infuriating. The cabbie didn't know if he should laugh or he should be scared he was kidnapping her.

The night that followed did not go well. People kept apparating and disapparating into and from Tom's apartment – where he was keeping her imprisoned – and they all had something different to say. Malfoy and Jules were the first ones there and both had, for the very first time, a united opinion on a subject and to the dark lord's unpleasant surprise it was on Camellia's side. He had no right to keep her in there etc. etc. The next ones were friends of Camellia from work and a very upset Michael who trashed the place yet couldn't get what he wanted—her. Then it was Tom's friends – see minions – who of course stood by his decision…even if he broke many laws in the process.

But the most troublesome thing was that no one, none of them, could actually find Camellia. They knew, they were too certain she was on the premises, but none could see or hear her. Where the hell had he gotten her to? Michael felt too claustrophobic all of the sudden, while he and Malfoy and Jules, were the only ones who lingered behind.

Finally, the solution came through Jules: she all but threatened Tom who stood in front of her unyielding to bring _Dumbledore himself_ in this room and look for the girl, if he didn't present her to them in the next ten minutes or however long whatever spell he was using needed to be undone. More than furious, Tom actually did as she requested. He was too afraid of the old man apparently and Camellia was right to tell her of that little fact in case anything happened.

It took five minutes for him to bring her back and all were relieved to see her unhurt and untouched…though they could see the storm coming even without looking at her: just by the aura all around her, their hair stood straight. That was when most deemed they should be going, but she prevented them—well, their curiosity for what she'd do, did.

"Michael, don't touch me or else."

He dared not, even a second longer; in fact he raised his hands immediately, as if to prove his compliance in a very obvious way. "Now I want everyone but Malfoy to leave this place; I shall not be responsible should something happen to you."

The spectators' eyes widened in alert; "I very well mean it. Should my outburst cost any of you I shall not be held accountable. Goldilocks will be protected, but I am sure of only one of you…and I believe he holds key information for the next."

Jules looked at her boyfriend with question written all over her face, worried yet something inside her stirred with jealousy. Why not her? Why had Camellia and Abraxas come so close lately, it annoyed her! Yet it took but one look at her friend's more than furious expression and her almost exhausted patience to know and fear should she not listen to her.

"Let's go now people," she urged, pushing Michael and one of Camellia's colleagues forward. Nott was ushered away by Lestrange and slowly all six people headed for the exit.

Only the seventh remained…

"Good luck honey." And she was gone with the rest.

The rest that happened, the four onlookers thought to be horrible; they'd never witnessed such a burst of magical force prior to this and in all truthfulness, it scared them. They could only assume what Malfoy could have felt who was in the line of fire when it occurred – if his face wasn't telling enough, which had the expression of perpetual fear –. They also thought it was admirable from the young dark lord not to cower behind anything and actually hold his ground with his head high.

The small woman literally exploded on him as magic literally poured out from her along with her anger. As if those two were somehow connected. No one really paid any attention to what she was saying as the mere sight of her was enough to convey her message: anyone who does the same ever again will _suffer_ a very lot…

When she was finished with her "lecture", Tom was left standing, but quite beaten; there actually was a small trail of blood running down from his nostril to his chin, while Malfoy was still looking petrified. He was well protected from the young lord Voldemort but that appeared to have cost said man something. "Abraxas, be kind enough to leave us alone now, please…" he said in the end when she seemed to be calmer.

"Yes Malfoy leave us alone; you served your purpose apparently," she barked in the end so venomously, he started having second thoughts on what he should do!

"Just go; it's better not to incense both of us…"

That underlying message there, he understood it; he made his exit after shortly saluting them. "I'll go to Jules now; you can find me and her at our apartment."

As he disapparated away, the first thing Camellia did was to literally fling her wand at Tom! He took the hit; she took him by surprise. "Ow, Cam', get a-! AH!" The distance was covered in a split second and before he could guard himself, she had landed a punch on her intended target: his face. Cheek to be exact. It was followed by a powerful slap on the other cheek and then a shove! He lost hi balance for a moment and struggled to remain standing. She'd started retreating, her back turned. "Camellia, honey, don't-!"

Changing her mind, she went back to him; his very voice drove her crazy! She wanted to harm him, to cause him pain. What he did, what he just dared do was close to abduction. What was worse? She'd used to take breaks from work all the time. What if he took advantage of that one time when no one else knew they had a fight? She was inwardly shaking at the possibilities with fear even if it appeared to be anger. Actually, no, it was both. He grabbed him by the collar of his robes and shook him. "If you ever do" she shook him more "something like that, _ever again_," she shook him yet again "and I make it back, I _swear_" she brought him so close, their noses hit on one another "I will **end** you. End you!"

"Is that so...?" His drawl was infuriating and his calm facade was driving her even more insane! How could he be so smug when there was blood on him and he looked like someone was in the process of beating him up? He didn't even blink as his eyebrows shot up disbelievingly. "And how may ask will you do that?"

Her face contorted with something wild. "You may not," she shouted! She threw him away and he let himself fall, landing on the couch. But she didn't leave him alone-she went to stand above him. "You have just been warned," she cautioned with malice in her voice. She grabbed him from the collar again with one hand, lowering herself just as much as she raised him. She was straddling him for more effect as she tried to be more threatening. "As if all the bollocks with my parents were not enough, now this! Tell me, are you _aiming_ to drive me crazy or do you enjoy watching me slowly descend into madness?"

He was a little perturbed but now his smirk had returned like a stab at her heart. "What if..." he started tortuously "I said both?" She slapped him with her free hand as hard as she could; she left behind three identical indents with her nails. But then, she noticed that a morbid fascination at her abuse shone in his eyes; she couldn't know, but he was always thinking to himself if she could ever be useful to kill anyone. Now, seeing the anger in her eyes so uncontrollable, he knew she could. She just needed the correct incentive. He knew she wouldn't of course try it on him, but her manners only made his insides stir. She was maybe becoming like him day by day...

"What if," - He was seductive even now! - "I like it when you lose control?" His hand reached up, going for her buttons shamelessly. He started undoing them. "What if I like it when you're so furious at me that you throw me around?" He didn't wait for her to react - he knew she wouldn't; he could see how his words mesmerised her - and now grabbed her thighs. "What if I love it when you get so crazy..." He angled his head to reach her ear, her hand still on him "even if _you_ fear it yourself," he whispered.

She shuddered. He kissed her. Her clutch tightened immediately in surprise but before she could decide on pushing or pulling, he attacked: he pushed her thighs back as he lunged forward and kept kissing with force and possessiveness as he gained ground. His lips felt bruising on hers and his tongue was doing things in her mouth even without her participation. He had trapped her on the armrest before she could register he moved, never letting go of her thighs. She decided she would pull in the end and responded to his kiss accordingly; her hands left his collar after almost tearing it, and started fumbling with his shirt. It really needed to come off-what was it still doing there? He pushed into her, so he could feel his desire, as he pulled her thighs to him again, no more space left. She fought with his robes and his clothing in general-why did it have the bad habit of staying **_on_**, goddamn it? He reached under the skirt of her dress, touching her. His fingers traveled north under fabric, trying to undo the buttons form the inside, slowly...painfully...

She felt anger; what was taking him so long? She threw him back on the couch, climbing on top of him. She tore the dress away from her body and discarded it somewhere. The corset was left, but neither touched it. "It's time I get back my favourite underwear," he provoked and his hands started tracing her curves; they finished at her full breasts, half in half out of the cups from all the tumbling. He spread her legs with his knee and she fell more, feeling him as much as possible.

She snorted. "You should certainly try."

Out of nowhere, everything started swirling and turning; seconds later, the four men and women, where standing in the Headmistress's familiar office. "...wait, what happened," Harry immediately wondered out loud.

"Are we back?"

"But the memory hadn't finished," Ginny noticed and they all turned to Hermione...who sighed.

She shook her head and fixed them with a stare. "Really guys? You think Lord Voldemort, THE Lord Voldemort, would let us see him have sex? The memory ended abruptly because that's where he chose to end it."

"Oh," all the rest said together. She rolled her eyes.

* * *

**AN**: I do not know why or how it came to me, but this ending was far better than the one I had first thought. So there you go! Loved it? Hated it? Review and leave an opinion~!


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